


Skyburn

by poisonquiver



Series: Skyburn [1]
Category: My Babysitter's A Vampire, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent Lives, BAMF Allison Argent, Family, Magic, Pack Bonding, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonquiver/pseuds/poisonquiver
Summary: Nothing that Kate does should surprise the Argents anymore. And yet.The thing is Kate has always liked brown eyes and the guy she had a kid with... Had brown eyes. Their kid, though has green eyesAnd magic.Allison and Benny think having a surprise cousin is as weird as it gets.They're wrong
Series: Skyburn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552084
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	1. Spell... Awkward

**Author's Note:**

> Well, we're in it now. First time posting. Be nice? Guess I'll die then.

It's all the kinds of awkward Allison expected this meeting to be. Her dad is trying, bless him, but Benny, even if he doesn't realise it, has that Argent stubborn streak and is not about to make this easy on anyone, least of all her dad.

He's brought along guests, friends of the family, and also, this part stings a little, a form that transfers guardianship over to them. 

Allison gets it, boy does she get it, but damn. She can't imagine the pain he's in - he's just lost his grandmother, gained an uncle and a cousin and is suddenly expected to move to California. She'd be prickly too in his position.

“Look. All you have to do is sign the papers and walk away. My life is here. I guarantee I won't want anything from you, not support, not money, heck not even a kidney. You sign these and we part like strangers. Sound good? "

Allison expects her dad to say yes, expects him to reach for a pen and sign the documents, maybe offer up a smile.

But no.

He doesn't do any of that. He just looks at Benny and says no.

"Thanks, but no."

Benny hardens. The gold flecks in his eyes blaze. His nostrils flare imperceptibly. 

"Why not?" he asks petulantly. 

"You're family, kid."

That earns a snort from the kid and a hint of understanding from Allison. 

Family. 

They're not really in the place to refuse members in that department. 

It's just her and dad now.

Sure, there's the Pack, and blood of the covenant and all that, but her aunt Kate, {before she went crazy) was her best friend and this kid has part of her in him and he doesn't even know. He doesn't even want it. 

"Bullshit." The kid says succinctly, with such vitriol in his voice, she's actually impressed. "Blood doesn't make you family."

"I guess it doesn't. But, you're the last living link I have to my sister and as big of a pain in the ass as she was, I loved her and I want to honor her last wish."

"I never knew her, so none of that matters to me. My dad killed himself because he didn't want things to go as far as they did with my mom. That was a dick move on his part and I don't blame her for that, but she still _left me_ and that hurts. You weren't there when I needed family. You weren't there when it _counted._ So just do me a favour and get out of my life."

"I didn't know about you, Benny. I didn't know I was supposed to show up and be there."

"And that makes it somehow better?!" 

"No. Of course not. I just want you to know, I would have been there if I'd known. Your mom was complicated. She was not an easy person but I loved her anyway, because she was my sister. And that love is unconditional. You think I'm not gonna love you even if you don't want me around? Kate _never_ wanted me around. Heck, Allison barely does, but I love the hell out of her and I already love the hell out of you."

Benny seems stunned speechless at that and Chris takes the opportunity to slide a photo out of his wallet (because he's that old) and give it to Benny.

It's a picture of a teenaged Kate, still innocent and probably good.

"She's why I love you. She's why I won't walk away." 

Benny studies the photo and looks up. 

He has Kate's eyes.

"This doesn't change anything."

Except it does.


	2. I need both my hands to hold my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewind, begin again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied. Here's chapter 2.  
> Happy Friday the 13th.   
> Be safe out there. 
> 
> Shout out to Unholytoothpick for being the first person to comment and bookmark. You made me feel all the feels and motivated me to get this out there for you.

_A single rose on the vine, the only splash of colour against the snowy background. It's wilting, fighting against its nature, hoping to survive the winter, but knowing it's futile - a vain hope._

_A petal drops, and so too does its will. Slowly, the other petals fall too. With the rose gone, the sun dims, no longer needed._

Ethan wakes with a start, skin cold and damp. Sweat collects at the nape of his neck and he runs his hand through his hair.

He's never had a dream like that before. 

Somehow though, he knows _exactly_ what it means.

///

He sees Mrs Weir the next day, as usual, but doesn't go too close. He tries to avoid skin contact as much as he can, knowing what he'll see when he touches her, not wanting to comfirm it.

She seems to already know though and offers him a sad smile when she finally catches his eye. He caves and walks up to her, slow and unwilling. 

"Hey, Mrs Weir."

"Ethan." 

They go through the gamut of small talk options farely easily and then she drops the bomb.

"You know, don't you?" 

"I assumed. Does Benny?" 

"Not yet. I haven't figured out how to tell him."

"It'll only get harder the longer you wait." 

"I know. It's just, I'm all he has left and I don't know what this will do to him. I don't want to be the reason he's hurting." There's a faraway look in her eyes, like she's remembering something but he doesn't ask.

The conversation ends abrubtly by Ethan's phone going off. It's Rory with bad news.

/

They defeat some warrior priestess from a bygone age with thankfully minimal injuries. Benny gets stabbed in the melee and loses consciousness for a few hours and it settles the turmoil in Mrs Weir's gut. 

She has to tell him. 

She has to tell him _today._

/

She tells him in stages. She tells him about meeting his grand-père in Paris when she was 19. She tells him about being in France when she was first diagnosed with cancer after only 3 month of dating him. She tells him beautiful stories about his grandfather and his dad hoping to cushion the blow but he doesn't fall for it.

He asks her why she's telling him about something that happened a long time before he was born and she tells him the cancer's back. 

She tells him that it's bad and that she doesn't have long. 

She holds him as he cries, holds him as the world around him shatters, holds him as he breaks. 

/

They spend her last few months improving his magic and his Latin, per his insistence. He wants to know that he learned everything he could from her so he won't have regrets. He realizes that she (and a bunch of his teachers) was always right about him. He was sitting on so much potential and a lazy attitude and crippling self-doubt kept him from accessing it. 

Turns out, he is an impressive Mage, and all those times when he accessed his magic after someone triggered his dark side were not flukes and he was really that good. 

His gran is so proud of him, and honestly, that's all he cares about. 

/

Rose Weir dies on a Sunday, in a hospital room alone with her grandson. She tells him about his dad before she goes.

She tells him that he was a troublemaker and a hockey player and exactly the opposite of Benny. She tells him that his dad was an idiot for killing himself when he found out about Kate being pregnant. She tells him that his dad would have loved him had he not been an idiot. 

She dies with a hand in Benny's and a smile on her face and if he didn't know better, he'd think she was just going to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is really bad and I apologize. I posted this now because I know that if I don't I probably won't. It's really rough but it's mostly just to get it out of the way so that I can get to the actual story which takes place after all this sad stuff. If it feels rushed, it's high-key cause it was and I promise that the rest of this will be better than this garbage chapter. I really just wanted to get this chapter out of the way and it shows.


	3. I don't think we're in Kansas any more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a little bit of an adjustment period. Surprise family reunions are like that, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a lot of time jumps in this one. It's short, but it's been three months and I just wanted to get something out. My life went off the rails in December, a lot of personal stuff went down and I'm just now getting back in my groove and thought I'd dust this off.
> 
> Also, writer's block is a bitch.
> 
> A lot of this takes place in Season 4, which I personally hated with a passion, but is necessary for forwarding the plot (unfortunately) hopefully longer chapters are on their way.

The funeral is a quiet affair, family and friends gathered to celebrate her life, not mourn her death, exactly as she stipulated. Benny reads a short eulogy and cries on Ethan's shoulder halfway through. There's a spell, the final one she taught him, that he does across her body to ward off spirits, and grant her safe passage. He does it wordlessly now. It's a bittersweet thing to think of how proud of him she'd be. 

###

A week later, the Argents arrive. 

###

It's the sun coming in from the wrong angle that alerts Benny to the wrongness of the situation.

This isn't his room.

It takes a minute for him to realize that it _is._ Technically.

He's in California. His grandmother is dead and his mom (who he's never met) is dead too. He has an uncle and a _cousin._

He also smells pancakes. He abandons the dubious safety of the room and goes exploring. He couldn't really do that last night with how late they got in, but now he takes his time. It's an apartment, a relatively small apartment with 3 bedrooms and a bathroom. It's not long before he finds the kitchen and the source of the smell.

It's Allison, with flour on her chin and in Snoopy pajamas. She's humming along to something on her Spotify playlist, trying to flip a pancake. It breaks in the pan and she tosses it into a pile of equally sorry looking pancakes. She grins when she sees him and points the spatula at him.

"Morning."

There's something off about her chipper demeanour and they both know it. She drops the smile quickly and flicks off the gas.

The music still continues softly in the background preventing the silence from becoming awkward. She sets the pancake batter down and Benny can't help but notice she's got some on her wrist and all across the front of her apron.

"You're not much for the kitchen are you?" He makes sure to keep his tone light and friendly and she grins and flicks him with batter.

"I'd like to see you do better."

A challenge like that, with Ethan, would have led him to show off with a burst of magic, but that would be a bad move here, so he instead grabs the spatula from her hand and proceeds to whip out 6 perfectly golden orbs and presents them to Allison grandly.

"So your gran teach you to make these?" She asks tentatively, addressing the question more to the pancakes than him, not wanting to appear imposing.

She knows how long it took for her to be able to talk about her mom after she died. 

Benny shrugs, dishing out his own pancake.

"I guess you could say that." He remembers his gran teaching him how to bake in between alchemy lessons, hoping to keep his attention on the subject matter long enough for him to take it in. It never worked, but he's glad he has those memories.)

They lapse into an awkward silence after that, broken only by the scrape of forks against plates. 

The song ends and the next one comes on and Benny laughs when he recognizes it. 

"Is that Bop to the Top?"

Allison lobs her fork at him. 

###

_"I bet he's hot." is Lydia's take on the subject of Benny. "I mean, with Argent in his genes, he must be."_

_Allison huffs and discards her empty cup into the bin as they walk out of Dairy Queen. She slips her arm into Lydia's and they match strides easily._

_"Sometimes I wonder why we're friends." She says, jabbing her elbow in Lydia's ribs._

_"I'm just saying."_

_They stroll down the street in silence for a while, as Allison ponders._

_"I have tons of cousins on my mom's side, you know, but they're all in the Business so I've never gotten on with them well."_

_Lydia hums, listening but not commenting._

_"I don't know if it's honestly the best thing for him to be coming here. I mean, it's quiet now, but it's_ Beacon Hills. _Who knows how long that'll last."_

_"You said he was Canadian, right? From a town called White Church?"_

_"White Chapel." Allison corrects mildly._

_"I think I read somewhere that they also have a bunch of unexplainable animal attacks in recent years."_

_Allison's step hitches, and she stops, making Lydia stumble next to her._

_"You don't think?"_

_Lydia shrugs? "Who knows? I'd say coincidence, but I don't think those happen in Beacon Hills."_

_###_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebooted chapter one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know who's still out there, if anyone's even out there but...
> 
> Have a paltry offering of whatever the hell this is. I really like my initial chapter one that I've used here but this is also something near and dear to my heart. If you've stuck with this horrible author for as long as you have i thank you

Rose Weir is strong. She always had to be. Growing up with three older brothers – she had no option. She’s stronger than most people give her credit for – _stronger than they know_. But she’s not invincible. There are things she can’t fight.  
 _I’m sorry Mrs Weir; the cancer’s back_ is one such thing.

You can’t win in the battle of life. She could be strong if it had been just her, but it’s not. It’s Benny too – her grandson, her _son’s_ son – that final tether to him, to her _boy_. He’d been only 15 when that _girl_ had told him she was pregnant.

That _huntress_.

The one who had pointed a gun at her son’s head, and said in no uncertain terms that she would readily kill him, (but she had liked his eyes, so she didn’t). The one that had given her _Benny_. The girl who had managed to get her son to kill himself. (I’m just not ready to be a father yet. I don’t want to grow up. I don’t want _her_ kid. A flash of brilliant magic and her son had gone back to the earth.) The huntress died a year ago, killed by a vengeful werewolf, who happened to take her _burning his family alive_ a smidge personally – who’d have figured, right?

(She’s a mage, she hears things).

But she digresses.

She’s the only one Benny has left and she’s _dying_. She doesn’t know how to tell him. She doesn’t want to see what it’ll do to him. (He’s more powerful than he realises, she’s caught glimpses of it when he embraced his dark side.)

Ethan tells him for her.

They had successfully neutralised another monster threat – a beautiful and vengeful warrior princess this time – and are coming off a celebratory high, when it happens. One moment she was laughing at Benny’s exaggeration of his role (honestly he had not conjured that sword as well as he thinks he did,) and the next she’s nearly collapsing, saved by Ethan’s recently developed fast reflexes.

His eyes flash white and she _knows_.

He lets go slowly, taking in what he sees, what it _means_ for Benny.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s no cause for that. There’s nothing that can be done.” She touches his cheek, offers him a weak smile.

“Grams; you okay?” Benny asks, sliding from the counter, clutching at the wound at his side.

“Better than you are.” She says, giving him a look that says he should be resting.

“It’s just a scratch. That warrior-bodyguard guy knew what he was doing.” He says casually, like it’s _no big deal_ that he almost died _twice_ in the past few hours. The warrior _did_ know what he was doing after all.

Since it’s obvious that he’s not getting any answers from his grandma, he turns to his best friend.

“What did you see?” He asks, standing tall, glaring darkly; just daring him to lie.

Ethan looks at Rose; quickly looks away.

He’s made his choice.

“She’s dying, Benny.” He says bluntly, voice soft and broken.

Benny goes completely still; turns to his grandmother.

“Is he lying?” He asks, tone of voice pleading, because _no you can’t be, not you_.

“No. He’s not. I have cancer. I’ve been fighting it for _years_. And now it’s spread. There’s nothing the doctors can do.”

Benny freezes; clenching his fists as they spark with uncontrolled magic.

“Benny; calm down.” Ethan says, voice soothing and gentle – the fireman coaxing the cat from the tree.

Benny growls. “Do _not_ tell me to calm down Ethan. Just _don’t_.”

He loses what little self-control he has, slamming his fist down onto the table, and immediately the table freezes over.

He blinks. “Did I … _do_ that?” He asks, fingers tracing the ice in amazement. “I did that.”

His fingers slip from the table and curl into a fist again.

“Benny, please control your emotions. If you don’t, that _table_ could be this _whole house_. Magic is chaos. Magic in anger is a _very_ dangerous thing.” Rose admonishes, grabbing his fist in her hand. “Please calm down.”

He’s still shaking, but little by little his fingers unclench, and he turns his hand so that he’s holding hers. “You can’t die, Grams. You’re…” The words he wants to say stick in his throat, and he swallows thickly. “You _can’t die_.” He says, and his voice breaks.

 _You’re all I have. You’re all I’ve ever_ _had_.

“We can’t fight this, Benny. It’s over. It was a good battle, and now it’s over, and I need you to be strong.” She touches his cheek – just like his father’s – and wipes a traitorous tear away. “I need you to be strong for me.”

He wraps his fingers (so cold) around her wrist, pulling her arm down.

“I will. I promise. I’ll be as strong as you need me to be.’

_Only because I have to be._

_Only because you need me to be._

*

The next few months are the hardest, most trying months of Benny’s life. He watches as his grandma goes to chemo, watches as she gets weaker every day, watches her withering away. (A tragic rose in a glass case, counting the days of your fate.) She’s _dying_ and all he can do is watch. He’s becoming a better mage, learning all he can from her before she’s gone. Before she’s dead.  
Some days are better than others.  
Some days are worse.

Today, it’s a calm ocean. A good day. He sits with her, reciting his spells – he’s fluent in Latin now, can do any spell he wants. He can do a spell that can take her pain away; that gives her peace of mind – if she asks him to; but she doesn’t.

“You look just like your father did at your age. You have your mom’s eyes though. Green. Your father had the biggest puppy dog eyes I’ve seen. He got away with a lot with those eyes. They were so _innocent_.” She lets out a sad laugh. “He had everyone fooled.” She rolls her eyes.

“He was such a momma’s boy until he met _your_ mom. He replaced my hugs with _her_ kisses, and all too soon, you came along. He was mortified. He couldn’t be the father to _her_ baby.” (He couldn’t be a father to _you_.)

“She was a huntress. He wasn’t supposed to love her – Romeo and Juliet had nothing on them. He couldn’t be a father to a huntress’ child so he took the coward’s way out. He was only _fifteen_. I had him when I was thirty, and he made me a grandma at forty-five. I was there to raise him. I’m so sorry he wasn’t there to raise you. He would have made a _great_ father. You _are_ a great son.”

She’d been drifting off in her entire monologue, and finally, her eyes close. “I love you Benny.” She whispers, voice carried on dove’s wings. Benny grips her hand tightly, unconsciously shooting healing magic down her veins. It’s not doing anything the drugs aren’t, so no harm, no foul.  
The fingers of his free hand grip tightly around the cool steel of the bed’s railing.

The heart rate monitor slows, and slows, and slows…

 _She’s just going to sleep_. He tells himself, but he’s not fooling anyone.

“I love you too grandma.” He says, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it softly.

Her chest rises in one final breath, before the heart rate monitor flatlines.

He doesn’t let go of her hand.

*

The funeral is small and intimate – only the people who matter are there. Ethan and Jane and their parents; and Erica and Rory and Sarah. (That old man from Bingo, who always shared with her when he won.) No one else.

“Rose Weir was a simple woman.” The priest begins, and everyone falls silent.

When he’s done, Benny’s shaking, holding back tears, refusing to be weak. _You promised her this. You promised to be strong._ Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. And it’s over.

Her ashes are collected in an urn that Mrs Morgan and Jane had chosen, and it’s easily the heaviest thing Benny has ever held. They scatter the ashes over the harbour on his grandpa’s boat – The Gold Doubloon. Grandpa had been scattered there too.

Benny still doesn’t cry.


	5. Chapter 5

Chris Argent always had to be prepared for _anything_. He lived in a world where monsters exist, it’s not like he had a choice. But this, _this_ is unexpected. Apparently, he has a nephew. Kate’s kid – figures. He’d been away, dealing with a Pack in Palo Alto, and she’d been in White Chapel, having a _kid_. Of course. And, as is customary, he’s still cleaning up her messes.

She’s not even _alive_ and he’s still doing it.

He’ll probably always have to be doing it. He’s supposed to take this kid in, who he’s never even _met_ , because Kate decided that he would make a suitable guardian should anything happen to her, or any other family of her kid. The kid has no one else. It’s depressing, but still.

Even in the grave, Kate is still a pain in the ass.

**///**

“Dad, what are you doing?” Allison asks the next day, leaning on the doorframe.

He’s packing away all their weapons.

“We’re going to have a new house guest. I’d rather not have to explain to him why we have this much guns.”

Allison folds her arms and stands up straighter.

“House guest? Care to explain?” She asks, resting her weight against the doorframe.

“Apparently, 15 years ago, your aunt decided to have a kid.”

‘Doesn’t surprise me. And _what_ exactly does this have to do with our guest?” She asks, placing her foot against the wall.

“Well, Kate was thorough. She made me his legal guardian if anything should happen to the grandparents she placed him with. And something happened.”

“So he’ll be staying _here_?” Allison asks slowly. “In Beacon Hills. The town of the freaky and unnatural. You know with all the werewolves and banshees and demons…” She pauses here, hand going to her side. “And death all coming out of the freaking _wazoo_. You wanna bring him _here_?” She asks incredulously.

“Well he comes from White Chapel, which is _also_ a far cry from being a sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere. Ask Stiles to research it for you. He’d love it.”

Oh, she plans to.

*

“So, you have a cousin you don’t know about, and he’s going to be living with you? It’s really sad that that’s the most normal thing that’s happened to you since you moved here.” Lydia supplies helpfully, swiping the brush of her nail-polish over her nails.

“Thanks, Lydia. You know just what to say to make me feel better.” Allison quips dryly, tossing a pillow at the other girl.

‘I try.” Lydia says, effortlessly dodging the pillow. 

Allison growls and grabs another pillow, and prepares to throw it.

“I’ll scream.” Lydia warns, and Allison wisely drops the pillow.

Lydia smirks.

“Do you know what happened to his dad?” Lydia asks, blowing on her nails.

“Dead probably. He doesn’t have anyone anymore.”

**///**

“I’m not going.” Benny says, folding his arms, looking for all intents and purposes like a five year old not getting his way. “I’m _not_ going.”

“Benny. It’s legally binding. Our hands are tied. You _have_ to.” Mr Morgan says with a stern edge to his voice.

Benny almost laughs.

This man doesn’t scare him. He’s seen him cry at _Casablanca_.

Jeffrey Morgan is not intimidating.

“Why should _that_ matter? I’ve never even met my mother. She shouldn’t have a say as to what happens to me at all! I don’t even _know_ this man and I’m supposed to just _go_ with him? Isn’t there like a _law_ against that or something? There has to be _something_.”

Jeffrey shakes his head. “I’m sorry Benny.”

**///**

The kid on the couch looks sullen and miserable.

“So you’re my uncle?” He drawls sounding bored, like he finds out he has a surprise uncle every day of the week and twice on Sundays.

“Yes. Apparently. Until I got that letter in the mail, I didn’t know you existed.” He says, and it sounds like an excuse.

“Well, that’s nice.” He says, and his face twists into a scowl. “So now you know I exist. What say you and my _cousin_ over there go on your merry way, and leave me and my life alone?” He asks, scowling slightly.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes you can. All you have to do is sign these papers, handing over my guardianship to the Morgans. It’s _that_ simple.” He says, sliding a pen and a stack of papers over to Chris.

“I’m not signing anything.” Chris says, leaving Allison confused. This would solve everything. It wouldn’t be awkward for anyone. It would be easier to just _leave_.   
He’s giving them an out.

Why isn’t her dad taking it?

“Dad?” She asks, looking at him curiously.

It shocks her to see the grief in his eyes, hidden away, visible only because she knows him so well. She understands now. He’s lost so many already. Almost losing _her_ had scared him. He doesn’t want to _lose_ anymore. Who was she to take this away from him? So she sits back, and watches the scene unfold.

“Why not?” Benny asks, clenching his fists together.

“Because we’re family, and I don’t turn my back on family.”

“We’re not _family_. Dude, I don’t even know you.”

“My sister was your mother. We’re family.”

Allison feels like they’re going in circles and not getting anywhere.

“Wrong. The people in this house – heck, even this _town_ – are more my family than you are. I spent my life here, with _these_ people, not you. I had Grams and Pops to chase away the monsters, and Mrs Morgan to make me cookies, and Mr Morgan to teach me how to fix a car. Pops taught me how to hunt, how to win in a high stakes game of Poker. Grams taught me Latin. She made me a better person. You weren’t _there_. You have no right to come in here and take me away from everything I know _based_ on a technicality.”

Chris pulls a picture from his wallet and slides it over to Benny, who cautiously picks it up. “Is this supposed to mean something?” He asks, but it seems his voice has lost its edge.

“That’s your mom. She was that age when she had you.”

Benny goes completely still.

“She’s my… this is _her_?” He asks, looking up.

He has Kate’s eyes.

“Yeah. _She’s_ what makes us family.”

“I’m still going to hate you.” Benny says, and it almost sounds like he’s joking.

Chris smirks, looking at Allison. “I have a teenage daughter – do your worst.”

**///**

He’s assaulted with memories as soon as he steps over the threshold. He hasn’t been here since they took Grams to the hospital. It’s so _empty_ without her. He looks around and feels like he’s seeing everything for the first time.   
She used to make sandwiches at _that_ table. She used to knit with _those_ needles. Those ancient leather bound tomes were all _hers._ She taught him everything she knew with those books. He runs his hand down the spine of one; feels a tingling sensation down his arm.

All that _power_.

Carefully, he takes the books from the shelves, placing them into boxes – to take to California.

“Need help?” It’s Allison. The _cousin_.

“These were hers – my Grams’. These were her most prized possessions.”

Allison is silent, picking up one of the books and setting it into the box.

A picture of a boy catches her eye. He looks a lot like Benny, but with longer hair and brown eyes – like Scott looked when they had first met. She hides a smile. He was her first love – she can’t help it.

“Who’s this?” She asks, turning the picture to Benny.

“My dad. I never knew him either. He killed himself when he heard that your aunt was going to have me.” He says and Allison hastily puts the picture down.

“Can’t say I blame the guy. _I_ wouldn’t want to have a kid with Kate Argent.” She says; just to (hopefully) lighten the mood.

He snorts. “What was she like?” He asks, setting another tome in the box.

“In the beginning... she was the best. My best friend. And then she went crazy. Or maybe she was always crazy, and I was just slow in realising it. But she _was_ great.”

They sit for a long while and just talk.

**///**

“This is Ethan. We go way back. I don’t think I remember a time when we weren’t friends. We’re like Batman and Robin. I think I’ll miss him most of all. He was the closest thing I had to a brother.”

Allison can’t help comparing their friendship to that of Scott and Stiles. It’s so similar, it’s frightening. Benny slides through more of his pictures. Most of its Star Wars and The Avengers, but some of it is of his friends. He stops at a blonde haired boy with a ridiculous smirk.

“That’s Rory. He’s a total idiot, who thinks he’s a chick magnet. He’s _not_ , but he keeps telling himself that. He’s harmless, but will hit on anything with a pulse. He just sat at mine and Ethan’s table one day and never left. I don’t know how _long_ it will be before I miss _him_.”

More scrolling.

A picture of two seriously pretty girls.

“That’s Erica and Sarah. They’re kind of our friends. They like Ethan well enough, but Erica threatens to tear my throat out on a daily basis, so… She’s warming up to me. We met Sarah when she had to babysit Ethan’s kid sister, Jane. Little demon, that one, but yeah. Ethan’s got like a monster crush on Sarah, but so far, nothing’s really happened, besides a really, really awkward date that neither want to talk about. Erica just showed up. She and Sarah are kind of a packaged deal.’

Benny smiles as he looks at the blonde. Red lips and leather jacket. Was that like an Erica look? Pang of sadness in her. _Her_ Erica was a good person who just had a healthy dose of bad luck.

“She wasn’t always biker chick. Erica, I mean.” He continues at her confused look. “She used to be a geek. A sweet, quiet wallflower. But then something changed. One day, she just came to school, rocking leather and thigh boots.” His thoughts seem to take him somewhere else for a minute, but he clears his throat and snaps back quick enough.” Let’s get all this stuff packed, huh?” He says, voice pitched high enough that Allison has a sneaking suspicion about where he’d just gone.

She chuckles and gets up to help him, because there is a _lot_ to do.


	6. Chapter 6

Ethan surprises Benny with a going away party.

There’s a cake and a small present from Ethan. There’s a touchingly embarrassing speech from Mrs Morgan, and hugs and well wishes all around. There’s tears shed and advice doled out, some helpful, some _not_ , and then there’s music. Ethan and Benny find themselves on the back patio, not saying anything; just sitting. Enjoying each other’s company.

“So, this is it?” Ethan asks, softly. “This is _it_. This is three years too soon. We were supposed to be stuck with each other until college, you know. I had plans to reinvent myself, somewhere in the States, get rid of the dead weight.” Here, he reaches out and mock-punches Benny’s shoulder. “I don’t know if I _know_ who Ethan is without Benny, bro.”

“Dude, that was deep.” He pauses for a second and then a smirk creeps onto his face. “What Lifetime movie is that from again?

“Oh, you’re a bastard, Benny, I pour my heart out to you and you’re busting my balls. I don’t know why I ever befriended you.” There’s a big shit-eating grin on his face that salves the sting, and he gently shoves his best friend away from him.

“Okay, seriously dude, you’re being more annoying than Rory.”

“Hey! I’m sitting right here.” Rory yells, turning in his seat to scowl.

“Well it _was_ offensive.” Benny admits sheepishly.

“Thank you.” Rory says, turning around.

“ _No one_ is more annoying than Rory.” Benny amends with a smirk.

Ethan chokes on his soda.

“He’s got you there.” He says, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Rory growls.

“Well I won’t miss your snarky wit.” Rory mutters, stuffing a piece of cake in his mouth.

Benny laughs, before his eyes fall to the ground. He’s _leaving_.

A pair of familiar leather boots step into his line of vision, and he follows it up to the blonde wearing them.

“Dance with me.” She commands, already lifting him up.

She leads him to the middle of the lawn and guides his hands to her waist.

“Just so you know, this doesn’t mean I’m going to miss you.” She says off the bat, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Good to know.” He says with a smirk.

They stay like that for a while, swaying to the beat.

She’s never been this close before.

“You can try to slow your heartbeat, you know. I happen to like this song.” Erica says, smirking.

“Sorry. It’s just… you’re gorgeous.” He blurts out, completely straight-faced.

“Feeling brave, are we?” She asks, tilting her head at him.

‘I just figure that I have nothing to lose. I may never see you again.” He twirls her around; misses her blinking back tears.

“Or if _I_ see _you_ again, you’ll be old and uglier, and stand even less of a chance with me than you do right now.” She says; just to centre herself again. (The world stopped spinning when he said those words, but she’ll never admit it.)

“What if I’m rich and handsome?” He asks coyly, dipping her in his arms, bringing their faces closer – _way too close_ – than they were before.

“Like that’ll ever happen.” She says, but the words lack conviction. (She’s just dizzy, is all. It’s not like he’s _affecting_ her or anything.)

He twirls her again, so that her back is against his chest and she can fell his warm breath on her neck, feel the beat of his heart – slow and steady to her erratic and fluttering.

“But what if it does?” He whispers, breath hot on her ear, sending icy shivers down her back.

She can’t _take_ it.

She twirls around, palms his cheeks and smashes their lips together. He flails for a second, before his hands find her waist and he brings her closer. Her hands tangle up in his hair, and she pulls at it every time his lips move from hers. And then she realises what she’s doing.

Pulls away.

Blinks – once, twice.

(Horror; shock, and oddly _regret_.)

It churns her stomach.

“I gotta _not_ be here anymore. I have better places to be.” She says, but the words lack menace, and they just sound hollow.

She turns to leave, but he grabs her arm, twisting her back to him.

“I’m going to miss you too.” He says, letting her go.

A lump builds in her throat, and before she can stop it, she’s saying something she’d never say if her emotions weren’t in control: “Do you _have_ to go?”

She hates how she sounds like she’s about to cry.

He looks away, to those _people_ in the corner; looks down.

“Yeah.”

Her undead heart shatters into tiny pieces.

“Oh.”

For some unfathomable reason, she hugs him tightly, almost like she _never wants to let go_.

And because it’s the Erica thing to do, she pulls away and snarls. “Don’t dweeb up California, okay Weir? It’s the place I plan to move to when people begin to notice that little Erica Jones isn’t getting older.”

He chuckles.

“I’ll try my best, _Jones_.” He says, and there’s a stupid, goofy smirk on his face.

She rolls her eyes, and struts away.

There has to be somewhere better to be than this loser party.

**///**

“You have lipstick right here.” Sarah says, wiping at the spot on her own face, chuckling evilly when Benny hastens to wipe it off.

(It’s not like _everyone_ saw them or anything…)

“Uh, thanks.” He mutters, gulping down some punch to hide his blush.

“So what love potion did you use this time, Romeo? Or is it the same one as last time, because you’ll be gone by the time the _hopelessly infatuated_ part of the charm wears off?” She jokes; even though there’s still a pang of loss in her chest.

She hadn’t really _liked_ Benny, but he’s still Ethan’s best friend.

“No. Believe it or not, Erica kissed me.” He says; then blinks, processing what he said. “ _Erica_. Kissed. _Me_.”

He’s on cloud nine.

“So… _No_ magic?” She asks, still finding that a little incomprehensible.

Erica Jones – vampire status withstanding – does _not_ kiss boys like _Benny Weir_.

(But the Erica Jones of hoodies and ponytails did.)

“No magic.” Benny clarifies.

“Huh. Well, that’s the weirdest thing to happen to us, in like, _ever_.” She quips, and he laughs.

“When are you leaving?” She asks over the silence they’d fallen into.

He checks his watch. “Two hours.”

“Oh. Well, I guess, goodbye. Hope you enjoy normal life.”

He chuckles.

She hugs him, and subtly signals Ethan over.

“I gotta go. My dad’s in town for the week, and you know, family bonding.” She says reluctantly, eyes watering. 

“Bye.” He says, and she smiles sadly, rushing away before she cries.

(It’s not fair.)

**///**

“Dude, saw you and Erica. _Nice_.” Rory says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I _so_ gotta learn how to dance. How was it?” He asks, pulling a chair over, twirling it around so that he’s straddling it.

“It was awesome. She _kissed_ me.”

“And now you’re leaving, and you’ll never know if that could lead anywhere. Good thing I’m still here, because now I have a shot. If she kissed _you_ , then I’m _so in_.” Rory gloats.

Benny rolls his eyes. He cups his hand over his mouth and coughs, and a gust of wind blows Rory’s chair over. ( _But not_ really _a gust of wind_.) Benny chuckles and taps his foot. Vines of thick grass shoot out and snake around the seat of the chair, trapping Rory underneath it. Benny winks, before pouring himself more punch.

“Benny, let him up.” Ethan – Mr Conscience and Major Buzzkill – says, and Benny sighs, righting the chair again.

Rory sticks his tongue out.

“See, _this_ is why I worry that you’ll blow up California sometimes. You _need_ me.” Ethan says, patting Benny’s arm.

“And that’s why I’m happy you’re not going to be in California with me. I’ll _finally_ have _fun_.”

Ethan mocks offense. “I’m plenty fun.”

“No you’re not.” Benny and Rory chorus, slapping each other high fives.

“Am so.”

Benny scoffs. “Keep telling yourself that buddy. Maybe one day, others will believe it too.”

Ethan punches his shoulder.

Benny cradles it, even though it doesn’t really hurt.

“I’m going to miss you man.” Ethan says suddenly, looking like he might cry.

Benny nearly saw two of the most fearless chicks – he’s only brave enough to call them that in the safe recesses of his mind – cry today, and he definitely won’t be able to handle his best friend’s waterworks at all.

So he hugs it out instead, burying his friend’s head into his shoulder, so that he _won’t_ see.

“Me too.”

And the final chapter – that came too soon – of Benny and Ethan ends like that.

The two of them against the world.


	7. Chapter 7

Benny wakes up with a crick in his neck and a wash of nausea. He blinks slowly, to get his bearings, and finds himself in an aeroplane.  
 _What the_ …   
The memories flood back to him and he feels like crying all over again. But he doesn’t – thank God – his ego can only take so many hits. The nausea reaches a new level, and he’s unbuckling himself and rushing to the bathroom like he’s got an angry mob of girls on his tail.

After his stomach is cleaned of everything he’s consumed back in White Chapel, he rinses his face off. He runs wet hands through his hair and conjures up a toothbrush and toothpaste, not wanting to go out and get that stuff from his carry-on. When he’s satisfied with his appearance, he exits the bathroom and goes back to his seat.

“Everything alright?” His uncle – _uncle_ – asks, and he nods.

“Fine.” With that verbose response, he pulls out the aeroplane headset and chooses a movie at random, effectively shutting Chris out.

Chris sighs.

They’ve got a long way to go.

*

They arrive in California a little over an hour later to cold morning air. Allison shivers, running her hands along her arms to warm up. Benny notes that it’s nowhere _near_ as cold as Canada, and laughs. It leaves his mouth in a puff of grey. And, because he can’t resist it, because it’s _right there_ , he says: “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore Dorothy.”

Allison laughs. “Actually, it’s I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, _Toto_.” She points out, slipping into a jacket.

“I know that, but I didn’t want to offend you by calling you a dog.” He says, shrugging noncommittally.

“I wouldn’t have been offended. I happen to like dogs.” She says, hiding a smile.

“Though, not as much as wolves; right Allison?” Her father quips; and she scowls, smacking his shoulder.

“Shut _up_ dad.” She says, shoving one of Benny’s suitcases into the trunk.

Chris laughs.

 _Too_ easy.

*

The room is smaller than he’s used to, but has a cosier feel to it. (Maybe because it is decidedly warmer in this room than it _ever_ was back home.)

“Home, sweet home.” He mutters, putting one of his suitcases on the bed.

He’s not sure if he believes it yet.

*

The smell of pancakes wafts through the door later that morning, and he pads down to the kitchen to see what’s going on.

“Hey.” Allison greets, flipping a pancake over. “Sleep well?” She asks, sliding a plate of pancakes to him.

“Like a hibernating bear.” He mumbles, grabbing a pancake and lathering it with syrup.

“Good. My dad went out to enrol you into Beacon Hills High. He’ll be back soon.” She says, flipping the last pancake into the stack.

Benny stops chewing.

“But I _just_ _got_ here!” He sounds incredulous.

“And tomorrow, you’ll _just_ be _going_ to school.” Allison says with a smirk, sitting down and nibbling on her own pancake. “Be glad it’s Sunday, or he may have made you go _today_.”

Benny sulks.

“Not fair.”

She laughs. “I know. I had to start the next day too.”

He glares into his pancakes, and with effort, reins his power in.

“But at least you have today.”

(And you’re not starting your new life off with half a dead body in the woods.)

“I guess. So what’s on the agenda today?” He asks, starting on his second and third pancake.

“Pancake sandwich?” She asks, looking at him with a raised brow.

“You made a lot of pancakes.” He says simply, biting into it. ”So; plans?”

She shrugs. “It’s Sunday. There’s not a lot to do on a Sunday.” (When your life isn’t overrun by monsters, that is.) “I think I’m just going to hang at my boyfriend’s place and watch movies, or something.”

He nods. “Cool. I think I’ll set up my Xbox, play a few rounds of Call of Duty.” He says.

“You could, uhh, come with me, if you want. Everyone wants to meet my mysterious cousin.”

(Everyone wants to see _Kate’s_ kid.)

“I guess. I mean, if it’s okay.”

“I’ll call him and ask.” She says. “After I finish these pancakes.”

*

There’s a redhead sitting in the kitchen when he comes out of the shower.

“Uh, hi.” He says awkwardly, running a towel through his hair.

She gives him a casual onceover, smiling as he shuffles awkwardly.

“Cute.” She says, and he hastens to his room.

“Weird.” He says, backing up against the door to keep _whoever the hell that is_ out. He just hopes he’s safe in the confines of this room.

**///**

“I think I broke your cousin.” Lydia says, as Allison comes in. Allison promptly drops her bow in shock.

“Geez, Lydia! How did you get in here?”

“I know where you keep your spare key.” Lydia answers, twirling the key between her fingers.

Allison sighs and picks her bow up, stuffing it in the coat closet.

“So that’s who your crazy aunt gave birth to?” She asks, swiping some nuts from the table.

“Yeah, he’s surprisingly normal, even factoring that into the equation.”

“Huh.” Lydia exclaims. “Want me to go get him?” She asks, with an innocent smile that Allison doesn’t buy for a second.

“I think you’ve scared him enough. _I’ll_ get him.” She says with a roll of her eyes. “Why is it that I’m _always_ damage control?” She asks.

“Because you’re my best friend.” Lydia proclaims, tilting her head and smiling.

“I often question that decision.”

“Please, your life would be dull without me.”

“I might actually prefer it.”

**///**

Benny pulls a shirt over his head as the door creaks open, and he jumps, squirming into the shirt; pulse rising.

“Oh, it’s you.” He says.

“Just me. Sorry about Lydia. She’s a little unstable, but she means well.”

“Yeah, got the unstable part.” He says, straightening his shirt.

“Well, hopefully you’ll get the rest of her. Now come on, I have some friends I’d like you to meet.”

*

“So, _why_ is my house going to be filled with teenagers again?” Melissa asks, dumping chips into a bowl.

“Isn’t it always?” Scott asks innocently.

“ _Not_ on my day off, it’s not.” She says, grabbing another bowl from the cupboard.

“We want to meet Allison’s cousin.” Scott says, opening a bag of marshmallows.

“And you couldn’t go to her apartment?” She asks, hand flying to her temple.

“No.” He says, shrugging, popping a marshmallow into his mouth.

“The things I do for you kids. Just try not to make too much noise.”

“You know I can’t promise that.”

*

The first thing they smell on Kate’s kid – Benny, his name is Benny, guys, he’s a _person_ , - is the smell of vampires. This makes them wary, but they don’t bring it up. Mostly, because they’re not entirely sure how to bring it up, because they’ve never met anyone who’s okay with being told that they smell like death – undead, whatever. And if he doesn’t know that he’s been hanging with vampires, they don’t think the whole werewolf thing is gonna go over well.

But all of this subtle easing into the reveal they’d eventually decided to do is thrown out the window when Malia asks, “Why do you smell like death?”

Benny looks at her, startled, and a little panicked. 

“Come again?” He asks, pausing in his reach for a soda. 

“You smell like death. Why?” She asks, ignoring the looks of astonishment and horror on her packmates’ faces.

“Uhh… How would you know how I smell? Cause all I’m getting is the scent of the fabric softener my grandma used to wash my clothes.”

Malia lets her eyes flash blue, and her canines elongate.

Stiles throws his head back, groans and mutters: “That is so not progress.”

Benny stills. “I have a few friends with glowing eyes. Vampires. Guess you’re not, since you’re asking about them.” He says, leaning back into the sofa.

“You’re friends with vampires?” Allison asks, sounding surprised by this.

“You’ve met them actually. At my farewell party.”

“Who?”

“Erica, Sarah and Rory.”

“Them? But they seemed normal. Non-murderous.”

“They aren’t. They were humans first.”

The words are followed by a sombre silence, broken tactlessly by Malia.

“Still doesn’t tell us how you’re friends with vampires.”

“It’s a long story. And frankly, I’m more interested in why _your_ eyes glow.”

Malia shrugs. “I’m a werecoyote.”

“That’s a _thing_?!”

“Anyone else a werecoyote?” He asks, when the silence stretches for a beat too long.

“No, but we’re werewolves.”

Benny is less surprised by this reveal. “Dealt with those before.”

And so it goes on.

Benny talks about White Chapel, with Stiles interrupting with facts of the town he’d managed to dig up, facts that Benny didn’t even know of, and the Pack filling Benny in on their own adventures in Beacon Hills. They get along famously; and soon enough, the smell of death isn’t even noticeable anymore, and a new one comes to the fore – the smell of Earth. And not just soil and rain, and things usually associated with the Earth, but he smells like the core, like magma, like the Earth itself.

“So, are you anything special? Or are you like Stiles, like Allison – a human?”

Benny pauses. “Well, I don’t have an instantaneous healing factor, or have sudden urges to kill every time the moon is full, but I’m not entirely human either. My grandmother told me that what we are – me and her – we’re the line drawn between humans and supernatural. We’re neither, and we’re both. So what I am isn’t technically classified as supernatural, but I’m no ordinary human either.”

“So, what are you then?” Malia asks, folding her arms.

“I’m a Mage.” Benny says, and his eyes flash violet for a second. He brings his palm up; and everyone watches, enthralled, as a little sphere of lightning hovers above it. He nudges it upward, expands it and grabs Allison’s hand. He puts it under the ball, and a tingle shoots up in her hand. He drops his hand and the ball still floats, supported by Allison.

“How did you do that?” Allison asks, not tearing her eyes from the view in front of her.

“I transferred my energy into you. It’s a skill my gran taught me, when she gave me her magic. I can give it, and I can take it back, but only when I share blood with someone.”

He takes Allison’s hand again, drawing the magic back, and the sphere vanishes. “My Grams told me that only the most powerful of our kind can do that. She told me that she was so proud of me, because I could.”

The rest of the night is spent on much happier topics – topics that stay far away from dead relatives, because too many people present have those.

*

“Werewolves, dude. _Werewolves_.”

Over Skype, Ethan chuckles. “So, like David?”

“David was a were- _puppy_ , compared to these wolves. And here I thought I was moving away from the weird and supernatural.”

“At least it’s not vampires.”

“At least I know how to deal with vampires. I don’t know how to deal with werewolves.”

“You’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay.” 

“Yeah – except I’m not so sure.”

“Dude, it’ll be fine.”

**///**

The first day of school is exceptionally ordinary. He meets Mason Hewitt, and they become fast friends, bonding over decidedly un-supernatural things like videogames, and pizza. He’s also introduced, via Mason, to Garrett and Violet, who are the only couple in their freshman year. He somehow catches the eye of the economics teacher, (who is also the lacrosse coach,) just because he happens to be the cousin of the girl who used to date the lacrosse captain. (If Benny thinks that the coach may be too invested in the captain’s life, that’s no one’s business but his.)

“You; Argent kid. Come here!” He says, as Benny and Mason stroll onto the lacrosse field as spectators for the pre-season try-outs.

Benny looks over his shoulder for Allison, and finding no such girl, turns to Mason. “Think he meant me?”

Mason tilts his head. “Thought you said your last name was Weir.” 

“Then he probably didn’t mean me.”

“Argent kid, are you deaf?”

Behind the coach, the boy who hadn’t been at the pack meeting thing, but is considered Pack, Danny, comes up and says: “Coach, the kid you’re calling may respond better if you called him Weir.” Danny flashes a dimpled smile at the two and Mason smiles back 

“Do you think I could get a guy with a smile like that?” Mason asks as Danny walks away.

“Sure.” Benny says.

“Argent Kid, Weir, whatever, get your ass down here and pick up a stick.”

Benny stares dumbly at the man.

“Did he just tell me to try out for the team?”

“I think he did.”

“But why? Do I look like a lacrosse player?”

“You look like a Dungeons and Dragons player.”

“Weir!” The coach yells loudly, sounding this close to being irate.

“I don’t think you wanna see that guy’s bad side.”

“You don’t think that’s it?”

“Maybe he has a worse side you _really_ don’t wanna see.”

Benny jogs to where the coach is standing and picks up a lacrosse stick.

“What do I do with this thing?”

The coach gives him a brief explanation, pats his butt and sends him on his way.

Somehow, and he’s really not clear on this, mostly because he may have a concussion from that last guy that checked him, he’s put on the team for when the season really starts. _How is this his life?_

So to sum it up, his life after his grandma went up to Heaven had gone a little like this: He found out that his dad had killed himself, his mom was a huntress who was sent to kill his dad who she ended up having a baby with, leading up to the aforementioned suicide, his mom was a crazy person who set a family on _fire_ , got killed by the man who hadn’t died in _that_ _whole_ _thing_ , she had a brother, which meant he had an uncle, who had a daughter who was his cousin, whose two serious relationships both were with werewolves, both which are a part of a pack that she’s also included in, even barring any and all urges to howl at the moon, he’s on the lacrosse team, which like _what?_ and he’s now living in California.

Again, _how_ is this his life?


	8. Chapter 8

“So I think I remember you saying that your grandfather taught you to hunt. Is that true?” Chris asks one morning, while stuffing a few items into his duffle.

Benny nods. “Yeah. Grams used to hate it. He took me every weekend, with our Doberman, Bauer. I lamed a few deer, but that’s it.”

“I can work with that. See, I’m going to teach you _everything_ I know.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

*

Benny blanches.

“That’s a _lot_ of weapons.” He says, unconsciously taking a step back.

“That’s not even _half_.” Allison chirps helpfully, with a beatific smile.

“And now I’m terrified. It’s like you’re the frickin’ mafia of the supernatural or something.”

Chris grins. “You could say that. So, how good is your aim?”

“Wait, we’re starting now?”

“Evil never sleeps.”

“Couldn’t it take like a nap?” Benny asks, sounding like Stiles would if he’d been in this situation.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Well this sucks.”

*

The bow feels heavy in his hands as he lifts it to the target. He pulls the string to test it, and practically hears Ethan’s voice in his head telling him not to. _You’ll poke someone’s eye out with that_. He quickly points the bow downwards.

“I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be holding sharp pointy killing things of any kind.” He says, looking at his uncle. “I’m pretty uncoordinated and I could hurt someone.”

Chris laughs. “If you have Argent blood in you, you shouldn’t worry. We’re pretty good with sharp, pointy killing things.” He says smugly, handing Benny an arrow. “Trust yourself.”

Benny takes the arrow with shaking fingers. “Okay, but if you want me to do this, you’ll want to stand back.” He pauses to nock the arrow into position. “Like _way_ back.” He adds.

Allison flashes back to the first time she’d been given a bow. It had been bright pink, and came with a quiver of nerf-tipped arrows, each decorated with glittery feathers. (She had been seven.) She’d been awed and had gone to shoot at her boy cousins with unrestrained glee. It had been one of the happiest days of her life.

“This is going to suck.” Benny says as he positions himself to aim.

Everything that happens next feels unreal.

He goes through a mental checklist before he shoots:

  * Feet shoulder-width apart.
  * Right hand on the bow, left hand on the string.
  * Pull bowstring taut.
  * Turn your head, not your body.
  * Close one eye to aim.



_Breathe_.

Release.

The arrow hits the target dead centre. Benny is shocked.

“That _did not_ just happen.” He says, even though all evidence says it did. “It’s a fluke.”

Chris hands him an arrow.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Benny takes the arrow.

It hits the target again.

“Natural talent.” Allison observes, nodding in approval.

“He’s definitely an Argent.” Chris beams, patting his nephew on the shoulder.

**///**

“So you’re saying we could have avoided having our asses kicked repeatedly if we’d just given you a _bow?_ Ethan asks incredulously, though there’s laughter in his tone.

“I know. Crazy, right? I still can’t believe it and _I_ did it.” He shakes his head.

“Seriously, we were almost killed on countless occasions, but if you just had a goddamn bow and arrow, we could have avoided all of that; seriously?!” There’s a bite to his words that wasn’t there a second ago and he sounds almost _accusatory_.

“I… guess.” Benny said timidly, subdued. “Wait, are you _mad_ at me? It’s not like I _knew any of this_. In fact, a couple of days ago, I didn’t even know I had _family_. If I _knew_ I could _do_ that, do you _really_ think I wouldn’t do something with it?” He’s yelling now, and he feels the spark of magic, and if he doesn’t calm down _right now_ , there’s no telling what could happen.

He takes a deep breath. “I gotta go. I have tons of homework to catch up on.” He sees Ethan gearing up to respond, jaw tense and eyebrows furrowed in the way he gets when he’s about to say something harsh, but he terminates the conversation before Ethan can say anything.

Snagging a quiver of arrows and the crossbow Chris had given him, he storms to the door.

“Hey Benny, you alright? I heard yelling.” Allison asks from her position on the couch.

“I’m fine.” He says, but the way his fingers clench around his bow tell a different story.

“You sure?” She asks, lifting a dainty, challenging eyebrow.

“Absolutely.” He bites off, reaching for the door handle.

“Where’re you going?” She asks, resting her arms on the back of the sofa.

“Out.” He snaps, yanking the door open, and storming out.

The door bangs satisfactorily behind him.

*

“What was _that_ about?” Lydia asks, returning from the bathroom.

“I don’t know.” Allison says, looking at the door worriedly. “I should, uh, check if he’s okay.” She says, getting up.

“No, he needs space. Trust me; he just needs to blow off steam. Jackson used to get like this _all the time_. The best thing you can do is let him go.” Lydia said philosophically.

Allison knows in her heart that Lydia is right (when isn’t she?), but her conscience can’t allow her to let Benny be _alone_ right now.

“I should go check on him.” She says, getting up.

Lydia sighs, but gets up as well.

“You _try_ to help people.” She says dryly.

*

They find him in the forest, shooting arrows at a tree at a rapid pace. He looks tightly wound, like the slightest wrong move could tip him off the edge. He’s drawing blindly, but Allison notes, mildly impressed, that he has yet to miss his target. Anger doesn’t mar his skills. She lets him run out of arrows before she approaches him. (Better to have him unarmed than risk the possibility of losing an eye.)

‘You okay?” She asks gently, stepping closer to him.

“Leave me alone.” He snaps, pointedly turning his back to her.

Lydia looks triumphant and smug. It’s _not_ a good colour on her.

“Benny… You can _talk_ to me.” Allison says, and risks putting her hand on his shoulder.

He doesn’t brush her off, which is a good sign, but he doesn't turn around either.

“I don’t _want_ to talk to you.” He says hotly, but his words lack menace.

He sounds _broken_. 

“I don’t want _any_ of this.” He says as he turns to look at her, and she’s shocked at all the emotion in his eyes.

It’s so intense that she has to remove her hand from his shoulder in shock.

“Benny…” She says tentatively, her hand hovering awkwardly in the air, and she’s stuck between keeping her distance and taking the plunge.

Her hand falls to her side.

“I just want to go home.” He says, and every reserve she had crumbles and her heart breaks.

Lydia shifts uncomfortably.

They don’t know what to say.

“I want to go home and find my grandma still alive, and my friends still being my friends, and I want everything to go back to the way it was before. When everything wasn’t _seriously_ screwed up and things like werewolves and vampires were just stories and not my _life._ ”

This, both girls can relate to.

“I _hate_ this. Everything about it _sucks_.”

And he transforms from angry, menacing teen, to scared little kid in the blink of an eye.

(Can you _say_ whiplash?)

“I know the feeling.” Both girls say with eerie synchronisation.

He laughs.

“None of this is fair. One moment I was the awkward skinny, tall kid who played videogames in his best friend’s basement, and the next I was suddenly the goddamn secret protector of White Chapel. And then I’m _here_ , away from _everything I know_ , and suddenly I’m a hunter too. Kate Argent’s _kid_. And my best friend _hates_ me, and my grandma’s _dead_ , and everyone I care about keep on falling through my fingers. Everything’s gone to hell, and I don’t have the energy to pull it back out.”

Allison knows the look he’s wearing. It’s _that_ look. The look of a kid with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something Stiles calls the _Scott_. It shakes her to the core. He was younger than Scott had been when he’d been dragged into this, and now, without his support system – his _Pack_ – it’s all hitting him at once. She reaches out and hugs him, because it looks like he needs it.

“You’re not as alone as you think.” She says, tightening her hold on him. “You’ve got _us_. Whatever beef you and Ethan have will blow over. I know that. You’re _not_ alone.”

He’d been stiff in her arms, but she feels him uncoil and hug her back.

Tall as he is, he feels fragilely small in her arms.

There’s a long way to go, but _this_ is a start.


	9. Chapter 9

In the months that follow, Chris trains Benny like a drill sergeant would. It makes him better, stronger and faster than he was, but he still hates it. He’s a nerd at heart, and finds that the whole jock thing isn’t what he wanted. But Chris Argent has weapons and he knows how to use them, so when he says jump, Benny asks which cliff he should do it from.

He’s going to Canada for the weekend to celebrate Ethan’s birthday (It’s his _sixteenth_ birthday Unc, you gotta let me go. I _need_ to see his face when he gets a car, and even more so if he doesn’t, had been his reasoning. It wasn’t bulletproof, but _he’s my best friend_ was)

He’d asked Allison to come with, so that she could meet _his_ friends, and she’d reluctantly agreed to tag along.

“Keep him out of trouble.” Chris had said as he handed her a few spiked arrows (in case they met some rowdy vampires along the way. Vampires were harder to bring down than most supernatural and one couldn’t be too careful.)

“Can’t you ever just say _have fun_ like a normal dad? Or warn me not to go overboard? Or anything that isn’t Monster Hunter?” She asks, taking the arrows from him.

“ _Allison_.” He says in that pointed way that he does everything.

She sighs and nods dutifully. “I’ll try my best. But word to the wise, he’s kinda got trouble wherever he goes.” She says, wrapping the arrows in foil.

“True, but still, just watch his back.”

She mock-salutes. ‘Aye, aye, captain.” She says with a laughing tone.

He rolls his eyes.

 _Teenagers_.

**///**

They arrive in Canada without incident. This, Allison takes as a positive sign. But even that is cautious optimism, because she’s been trained to hope for the best and _always_ expect the worst. At her side, Benny stands, and, like her, his eyes are searching the terminal for all exits. She feels oddly proud.

Shaking off the feeling, she hikes her bag higher up on her shoulder and turns to Benny.

“Ready?” She asks.

Benny grins.

“Duh.”

**///**

It’s clear they’re early to the party when they reach the house. The only car in the driveway is the Morgan’s, and the place is devoid of signs of life.

Still, Allison’s fingers clench around the handle of the blade in her waistband. She notices the tension in Benny’s shoulders, and that proud feeling stirs up again, squashed quickly by how _not_ the time it is for that. Benny makes a motion with his hands that signal he’s checking the back, and Allison nods, scoping the front. Nothing out of the ordinary.

She only lets her guard down an increment when Benny comes back, unharmed and unarmed.

“All clear.” He says. “If paranoia is a genetic thing, remind me never to have kids.” He adds, moving to the front door now.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a Hunter thing.” Allison says.

“ _Great_.” Benny groans, reaching a fist out to knock on the door.

There’s movement inside, and Hunter-paranoia kicks in, and they’re tense again.

That is, until Mrs Morgan opens the door.

It takes a minute for her to match the face with the name which surprises Benny and worries Allison.

“Benny?” Mrs Morgan asks, and Benny tenses.

“The one and only.” He says cautiously, and Allison’s grip on the blade she hadn’t let go of yet, tightens again.

“Benny! Oh my God, I didn’t even recognise you behind all that muscle. I mean, look at you!” In a move pulled off by Embarrassing Aunts everywhere, she grabs Benny’s face and studies it closely. “Look at that jaw. That jaw didn’t exist here. And your arms! Oh Benny!” Meredith Morgan sweeps Benny into a bear-hug, and Allison lets her grip loosen on the blade as a gut-busting, albeit silent laugh spills from her mouth.

Benny turns to give her a look of betrayal, but she grins and laughs some more.

Mrs Morgan lets him go. “Oh, you must be here to see Ethan. Let me get him for you.”

She turns inside, and Allison’s silent chortles turn into gasping laughs and she bends over and curls her arms around her stomach.

“Oh my God, that was too good.” She says when she can speak again. “Your face was epic. It was such a Kodak moment. I _wish_ I had a camera to capture it.” She wipes a mirthful tear from her eye, and lets one last laugh escape.

“You’re really mean.”

“I know.”

It’s at this moment when Ethan arrives, and the grins that threaten to split their faces apart is so cute that Allison really wishes she had a camera.

There’s no hesitation when they hug, and they’re not even a little ashamed when it lasts too long, mostly because they don’t even know that, and Allison is not going to tell them.

**///**

As parties go, this one is pretty tame, with only a handful of people, but Allison doesn’t mind. Less people means a lesser chance of someone getting hurt.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’ve freaked out the houseplants at this point.” Benny says, coming over to her, and handing her a cup of punch. “You’ve been standing here all night.”

“My back’s to the wall.” Allison supplies, sniffing the punch.

It’s just punch, which is disappointing because the only way she’s loosening up is with alcohol, and this party is clearly not going to give her that.

“And no one can sneak up on you, I know, but lighten up, this crowd’s harmless.”

He’s right. This is such a nerd party; it would probably give Lydia a rash. Or an aneurism. 

“If it helps, I know a spell that can turn any liquid into alcohol without watchful parents knowing about it.” He says, taking her cup from her.

Her hand closes around his, and she gives a tiny shake of her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ll even try to have fun, if it will make you feel better.”

“I’m pretty sure the houseplants would appreciate it.” He quips, and Allison smacks the back of his head.

“Moron.”

* 

Erica folds her arms stubbornly. Sarah so owes her for this. She could have been at Tag Bridger’s party tonight, out-drinking his college friends, but _no_ , they _had_ to come to _Ethan’s_ party, because he’s their _friend_.   
Ugh.  
She hates sentiment. Her eyes rake the crowd as she looks for Sarah, and she catches a glimpse of a vaguely familiar brunette. She’d seen that girl before, somewhere. She watches as a tall, muscular guy walks up to her and hands her a drink. She studies his frame. Erica _like_. Finished with their conversation, the boy turns and Erica takes a second to admire his face. Chiselled jaw, bit of stubble, green eyes.  
She pauses. Those eyes. Green, flecked with gold. She takes in the curly hair, and looks to the girl at his side. She was at the last party at the Morgan house too. It all clicks into place. Her gut churns.

She had just been checking out Benny Weir.

*

Finally, Ethan’s parents decide that they’ve overstayed their welcome, and go enjoy some quality time in a restaurant thankfully far away, with Jane tagging along despite her protests. As soon as they’ve gone a safe distance, the music picks up, and the hidden alcohol comes out.

“Now _this_ is a party.” Erica says, materialising next to Benny, who’s currently playing bartender.

“Erica. Didn’t expect to see you here.” He says, sliding a shot glass of tequila her way.

“Sarah made me come.” She explains, gulping the shot down easily. “God, I needed that.” She says.

Benny chuckles. “Have another.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to get me drunk.” 

“Vampires can’t get drunk.” He recites dutifully.

“Oh, but we can. If we try hard enough.”

“Oh, I sense a challenge.”

“You sense wrong.” Erica says, picking up a bottle of tequila and walking away.

*

Benny finds her again, later that night, sitting on the roof outside of Jane’s window. The tequila bottle lies shattered on the ground below; and she’s nursing a beer in her hand. She’s still not even a little buzzed. It’s freakishly cold out here, and Benny feels seriously Californian right now.

“This used to be nothing to me.” He says, drawing his jacket closer on his person.

“You mean it’s cold out?” Erica asks coyly.

“Hey, you’re a vampire; you wouldn’t think it was cold if you wore a bikini in Antarctica.”

“Point.”

“So any reason you’re having a cliché rooftop scene moment?”

“The smell of blood only gets stronger when people drink and Sarah made me promise I wouldn’t feed on Ethan’s friends.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her next time I see her.”

They fall into a comfortable silence. 

“So, what happened since the last time I saw you?” Erica asks tentatively, looking pointedly at his arms before turning her face up to him again.

“I got an upgrade.” He says, and she rolls he eyes.

“Good to see that all that’s changed about you is the outside, Weir.” She gives his arm an affectionate punch, and marvels at the solidity under her fist.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Benny comments lightly, swiping the beer from her hand and taking a sip. “God I missed Canadian beer.” He tilts his head to the sky, taking in the stars.

“It _is_ a bad thing.” Erica says smugly, taking her drink back.

“Whatever you say, Jones.”

*

“My dad called.” Allison says later that night, when the party’s over, and they’re cleaning up. “He says that something’s going down in Beacon Hills, and he wants us to stay a while longer.”

Benny looks exactly how she felt when she heard the news, pensive and ready for a fight. “Did he say why?” 

“No, he was annoyingly vague on that.” 

That doesn’t change the expression on Benny’s face at all. “I don’t like this.” He says, tying the ends of a full bag together and throwing it into a big pile at the edge of the room.

“Me neither, but my dad said we should stay put, so…”

“We stay put.” Benny says, sounding peeved.

**///**

In the weeks they’re in Canada, Allison learns a lot about her cousin. She learns that they’re both allergic to mushrooms, that he used to be top of their class in Calculus, that before all of the supernatural, they were just two geeky outsiders with severely boring lives. She learns just how special Rose Weir was to Benny, and how meeting Ethan was one of the greatest things that could have happened to him.

It’s almost hard to leave when two weeks pass, and her dad calls, saying he needs them home _now_. If it wasn’t for the urgency in his tone, she may have even been tempted to stay a while longer. 

But not with her dad sounding like that, and not with the dread pooling in her gut.

*

“Thank you for letting us stay as long as you did.” Allison says to Mrs Morgan as she drops them at the airport. “I hope we weren’t an imposition.” 

“ _You_? Never.” Mrs Morgan says, cupping Allison’s cheek, and stroking it with a thumb.

Allison finds herself unwillingly leaning into the touch, and this has to _stop right now_.

“Take good care of that boy.” Mrs Morgan says, taking her hand away. “Take care of _my_ boy.” Allison nods wholeheartedly, making a solemn promise.

“I will, Mrs Morgan. I promise.”

Mrs Morgan smiles sadly, and gives Allison a brief, solid, _motherly_ hug, and Allison tentatively returns it.

She lets go, and watches as Mrs Morgan hugs Benny, notices how the woman almost doesn’t let go, and wishes, like she sometimes does, that Rose Weir hadn’t died, and that Benny didn’t have to leave.

They board the plane in silence, not really sure what to say to each other, and Allison lets the silence


	10. Chapter 10

_A lot_ has happened in the two weeks that they’ve been in Canada. For one, Scott somehow has a Beta, there’s a dude with no mouth killing people, and apparently, a family of wendigoes were his first targets.

 _How_ is this _her life?_

Also, because there’s not enough problems they’re already trying to juggle, Kate’s _alive_ somehow, and is some kind of were-jaguar or whatever. But Benny doesn’t know this part.

“We have to tell him, dad. I mean, if Mom were alive again, by some miracle, I’d want to know.”

“We don’t know where she is. We don’t know what she’s doing. She’s not in the right frame of mind, sweetheart, and we don’t know what this could do to Benny. When we know where Kate is, when we _find_ her, we’ll tell Benny, but not right now.”

Sure that _makes_ sense, yeah, and it’s the _logical_ thing to do, but still.  
The smart choices are never made by the heart.   
For now, she’ll keep quiet and follow her dad’s lead, but she’s definitely not going to like it. Besides, they’ve got bigger issues. The full moon approaches.

There’s a new beta to rein in.

**///**

Somehow, the lie Kira tells to get Liam to the lakehouse turns into a warped version of the truth with the entire freshman class of Beacon Hills High showing up for a party that was never supposed to be. But that’s really not the issue. Neither is Lydia’s seething, murderous expression, but Benny really feels like it should be. Lydia Martin is pretty scary when she’s ticked off. And she’s pretty _ticked_ _off_. Benny stays far away.

“Kickass party, right Weir?” Garrett states, lifting a wine bottle to his lips.

Benny shrugs.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like parties?”

“Don’t like crowds.”

“These kids are our fellow freshmen. I don’t think they count as a crowd.”

“Maybe I just don’t like _you_.”

Garrett puts a hand to his chest in mock-offence, but still manages a smug grin.

“ _Everyone_ likes me.” 

The conversation pauses there, when a man comes in rolling a keg of beer, followed closely by Lydia.

“ _Okay_ , I didn’t order a keg of beer. Especially not _domestic_.” Lydia says, with a look on her face that promises painful retribution. 

Benny feels like running away, but luckily for his dignity, stands his ground.

“Somebody ordered it. You tryna tell me no one here wants to drink?”

Lydia rolls her eyes at the statement, and turns her attention to her laptop, which is being used as a coaster. “Who put this here?” She asks, picking it up and whispering, “ _This laptop costs 2000 dollars_.”

She spots Garrett with the almost empty wine bottle and snatches it from his hand before he can take another swig. “That bottle of wine is 400.”

She turns to Demarco, as his shirt proclaims his name to be, again. “How much?”

He hands her a note.

She looks it over, not looking particularly happy with her findings.

“What’s this extra hundred dollars?” There’s pursing of lips, and Benny really wants to make a break for it. 

“I call it the ‘Yes-you-do-look-21-to-me’, surcharge.” Demarco proclaims, adding a wink just to piss Lydia off.

Lydia rolls her eyes, sets the bottle down and spots Mason climbing up the stairs.

“Let me get you some cash.” She says, before she’s off, chasing after Mason.

“I opened the wine; I should probably pay for the keg.” Garrett says, surprising Benny with the gesture.

Benny makes a kissy-face at Garrett as Demarco leaves, and Garrett flips him off.

The evening is pretty tame after that.

*

So, of course, it ends with the dead body of a corrupt keg-delivery man with his head cut off.

*

And that’s only just the start.

The supernatural all have prices around their necks, and are being lined up like lambs to be slaughtered. He just wanted a normal freshman year. That looks less and less likely to happen now.   
It all pretty much goes to shit after the lacrosse game with Devenford Prep. It’s pretty surreal when he thinks about it. Not that he tries to, but it’s where his mind wanders to sometimes. He’d befriended an honest-to-God assassin – _two_ even! – which is… not great actually. White Chapel was a pretty messed up town, but _this_ is on a whole new level. He had _helped_ an assassin with his calc homework, which is the last thing that should be tripping him up, but…

He’d made friends with people who were trying to kill his friends, (maybe even him!), and that was an unsettling thought. The worst part is: he had no fucking clue. He thought of Violet as easily the hottest freshman in their class and of Garret as one lucky ass dude. He never, not even for a moment, _suspected._

He feels sick.

He’s the fucking balance between the two worlds and he missed it. His grandmother would never have missed it. A shadow darkens his doorway, and he looks up to see his uncle leaning against the frame.

“I know that look.” He says and Benny barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” He says, which is a lie, even now he can feel the words wanting to roll off his tongue, but he resists. His uncle wouldn’t understand.

“Maybe you will after this.” Chris tosses him a bottle and he catches it easily, something he wouldn’t have been able to do even a few short months ago. It’s a beer, not only that, but it’s Labatt Blue, which is just…

“You’re wilfully corrupting a minor, Uncle Chris?” He asks, with the biggest, most shocked eyes that the man doesn’t even blink at.

“Drink the damn thing before I change my mind, Weir.” He says, and Benny is only too happy to oblige. 

He makes quick work of the top and knocks back at least quarter of the bottle in one sip. It goes down as it always does, settling the buzzing under his skin for the time being.

His uncle doesn’t pressure him to talk, just sips at his own beer and enjoys the silence.

**///**

The next day is still school, still awkward and tense and all anyone can talk about is how they shared space with assassins. He gets how as interesting stories go, this one’s pretty up there, but he doesn’t need a play-by-play of something he’s living through.

Liam gets it. Liam, who won’t talk to him, who won’t look at him, who won’t acknowledge him in any way, _that_ Liam gets it. It would be fine if, _if_ , he wasn’t also ignoring Mason, Mason who is his best friend. That just adds layers of awkward to the whole thing, and God does he not have the energy for this right now. By the time lunch rolls around, Benny is done with it all, missing bullies for the first time since ever.

Mason deposits his tray on the other side of Benny, sinking into his seat bonelessly, watching as Liam walks out.

“He’s not a subtle one, is he?” Benny asks, only half joking.

“That’s not his strong suit, no.” Mason agrees, but his heart is nowhere in it as he pushes his fork through what Benny sincerely hopes is mashed potatoes. “I’m going for a jog with him after school, to see if he’ll be less cagey then, if you wanna tag along.”

Benny has no real intention of doing so, but Mason has the Sad Eyes out and his resolve crumbles like a house of cards, so he says: “What could that hurt?”

The answer is: pretty much everything in his body.

///

Before _everything_ , Before Jesse, maybe even a little bit after Jesse, the idea of Benny jogging would have had anyone in stitches, because that would have been the day. Now, Benny loves it. He draws his power from nature, and he’s never as close to it as when he’s running. The fresh air and sunshine always feels like coming home, and this time’s no different. Even with Liam being the way he is, Benny feels more alive than he has in a while. He feels a strong connection to his Grams out here, like a tether rooting them together. She’d told him once that mages didn’t go to heaven, but returned to the earth when they died, creating beauty from tragedy. It helps a little, on the bad days, to think that she’s telling the truth, that somehow, some way, she’s still right there.

He gets so lost in the feeling that he almost forgets that he has company, at least until he hears Mason’s voice.

“I mean professional killers were _using_ us! How are you not freaking out about that?!” He sounds indignant, and Benny almost snorts, but Liam offers a curt reply and takes off, leaving the two of them trailing in his wake.

“I got him.” He reassures Mason, before speeding up as well. He catches up pretty quickly to Liam, who trips over thin air when he pulls up next to him, keeping up easily enough.

“What? How even…?” You know what? I don’t even wanna know.” Liam says, but Benny lets his eyes go violet and winks cheekily.

He’s not sure how he winds up on the ground moments later, in agonising pain, which, you know, _great_.

Benny notices Liam beside him, struggling to sit up, so he guesses he got hit too. Benny is reluctantly impressed by the fact that the guy hit both of them, but that’s probably the loss of blood talking. Dusty loafers make their way into his line of sight, and it’s too casual a walk to be a good guy, which Benny would be more concerned about if his vision didn’t keep blacking out on him.

“You weren’t really a card I was expecting, Weir, but I can make this hand work.” Garrett is saying, and Benny catches a glimpse of a pretty lethal looking knife. Before he can so much as utter a warning, Garrett stabs Liam in the gut and drags the boy into the back of his pick-up.   
Benny is rapidly losing consciousness and doesn’t fight it when he’s given the same treatment, but he is cognizant enough to be scared shitless.

This cannot be good. 

!!!

Allison knows the minute Benny doesn’t answer his phone that something is up. Call it woman’s intuition, a hunter’s instinct, or whatever-the-fuck, but she knows.

She jumps when her phone vibrates, but it’s just Scott, which only gets her heart rate up more.

“Where’s Benny?” She asks, instead of greeting, knowing there’s no time. She listens as he breaks it down for her, telling her what Garrett wants, what he wants him to do. There’s something he’s hiding from her, she knows, something that he’s not telling her, but she doesn’t have time to ask about it, needs to act right now, before she loses her shit.

“What do I have to do?”

**///**

Benny looks dead. He looks worse than dead, actually, but dead nonetheless. If it wasn’t for the fact that he can still hear the guy’s heartbeat, Liam’d be thinking the worst. They’re in a well. Benny’s floating somehow, which he’s just gonna chalk up to magic and _never_ try to figure out. This has been the worst – the worst year, the worst month, the worst day – just the worst. Why had he ever thought taking on two Juniors would have been a good idea? If he’d just kept a lid on it, kept his cool, then none of this would have even happened. He could have gone his whole life without knowing about Beacon Hills’ underside. He really stepped in it this time.

Benny groans, but otherwise doesn’t move, other than to twitch his fingers. He has no idea how they’re gonna get out of this.

God damn it.

**///**

Benny wakes up to whiteness. It makes the back of his neck itch. He goes to scratch it, only to find that he can’t move his arms – or rather, his arm. With the other, he raises himself up and looks around. There’s not much to look at, really, just more of the same blankness. This place, whatever it is has a sense of finality about it that threatens to smother Benny the longer he stands here. He takes a few steps in a random direction hoping to find something the further he goes, but he’s not that lucky. His footsteps echo loudly in the void, sounding eerily like thunder behind him. His left hand is still immobile, bent awkwardly against his hip and he worries about the fact that he can’t feel any pain. The view in his left eye is being obscured by something but he can’t say what, and it’s getting worse with every step. The void seems endless, stretching on further than he can see, but still he walks.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he hears a voice – a voice he recognises. His feet are moving before his mind catches up, running after someone long dead.

“Grams!” He shouts when he finally sees her, every thought wiped from his mind. She looks different, younger maybe, happier definitely, and very much alive.

She doesn’t look nearly as happy to see him as he does to see her.

“Benny?” There’s a subtle hint of sadness in her tone when she speaks, but she moves closer. Her dress, he notices now, is made from rose petals threaded through with vines of pure gold, which he knows aren’t found in nature.

“Grams, where are we?” He asks when she’s close enough.

“A place you shouldn’t be in yet, sweetheart.” She cups his face and all he feels is a heaviness that he wants to get away from. It must show on his face, because she smiles sadly and pulls away. He feels horrible at the rush of relief that overtakes him when she does.

“You’re not really here, though, are you?”

“I don’t know, Grandma, I don’t know anything anymore.”

“This place is like Heaven for people like us, kid.” A new voice chimes in, and he swivels around to look at the interloper. He looks enough like Benny for Benny to put the pieces together, and he shrinks away.

“ _You_ went to heaven?” are the first words Benny says to his dad.  
His dad takes it like a champ, giving him a crooked smile that’s nearly identical to Benny’s own.

“Mom said the same thing when she saw me. Only she had a tight hold of my ear when she did. Benny winces in commiserative pain as he remembers the strength behind these two fingers. And then he rewinds to what his dad said. “Wait; heaven? I’m dead?!”

“No you’re not.” His grandma assures him, putting a hand on his shoulder. The pressure from before returns, but he resists the urge to push away. Who knows when she’ll be able to do that again?

“How do you know?” He asks when she takes her hand back. “How can you be sure?”

“I’d be able to feel you. This is just an echo of you, sweetheart, you have to go back.”

“What if – what if I want to stay?” He asks before he really thinks about it. His grandma’s lips purse in disapproval when he’s done, but he doesn’t take it back – doesn’t want to.

“You have to go back, child. You’re not done yet.”

“Everything’s gotten so screwed up since you died, Grams. _I’m_ screwing everything up without you. Nothing makes any sense anymore. It’s like there’s part of me that’s missing, a part of the world that’s greyed out since you’ve been gone. I can’t do this alone, gran, I don’t want to.” Rose’s stern expression softens the longer he talks and she cups his cheek. He supresses the shiver that wants to come out, leaning instead into her touch.

“It’s not easy, no, but it’s not impossible either. Your friends need you more than I do right now, so you have to go.”

The ghost of her touch against his skin forces him to look up. Her eyes are glowing and next to her, so are his dad’s, and he knows what they’re doing, tries to fight it, reaches out to grab their hands, but they’re disappearing into the void. The fingers of his left hand twitch uselessly as he tries to think of a counter-spell, but he’s too late and they’re gone. He’s sinking, sinking, sinking…

His eyes snap open and the colours around him swirl into focus. He’s… in a well?

“Oh, thank God.” That’s Liam’s voice, which means he’s back. Back from where? The memories are fading, replaced with pain and the recollection of how he got here. He tries to sit up, only to flail as he’s submerged in water. Liam snorts inelegantly, and then reaches out to steady him.

“Easy, don’t hurt yourself… more.” Benny’s vision swims and he lifts a hand to the side of his head, only to have it come away red.

“What…?”

The pain hits and it hits hard, nearly rendering him unconscious again. He uses some of his magic to keep the pain away, but not so much that it drains him. Just enough to plan.

“You good?” Liam asks, and there’s genuine concern in his tone.

“As good as I can be. Any plans to get out of here?”

“Besides free-climbing up a wet, slippery, possibly concussion-inducing well? Not a damn thing.”

“Well, every kid wants to be Spider-Man, don’t they?” Benny tries for levity, but fails by a mile. He knows this is a bleak situation – he’s injured, Liam’s not doing so good either, and it’s only gonna get colder the longer they’re in here.

“How are you gonna climb with only one arm, Peter Parker?”

Benny looks down, and yep, his arm’s pretty messed up. Well then. He’s willing to bet most of the blood in the water is his too. This is… _fantastic_.

“Maybe you should climb and then you can get help. I’ll be fine until then.” He knows he’s lying, but he’s hoping Liam’ll buy it. He needs Liam to buy it.

He doesn’t.

“I’m not leaving you in here. Either you’ll die from blood loss, or pneumonia’ll get you. My dad’s a doctor, so I know what I’m talking about. We both go up there or none of us do.”

“Dude, I’m not getting into a suicide pact with you over this. Not when I’m more likely to bite it than you are.”

Liam rolls up his hoodie to show off a pretty gory looking hole in his side, leaking _something._ “Garrett stabbed me with a pretty vicious looking dagger and it’s not healing, so I do not like our chances right now.” 

Benny makes a show of using his left hand to grab onto a rock and slowly pulls himself up.

“I don’t know about you, Dunbar, but dying in a well is not the way I wanna go.”

Liam grins and follows suit.

*

Sweat collects on Benny’s forehead as he tries again to climb, but he knows it’s pretty futile by now. The walls are slick with both water and blood, and every muscle he has, even ones he doesn’t remember ever learning about, are screaming at him to stop, but he can’t. He thinks about Allison, about Ethan, about Uncle Chris, and he pulls himself up again. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. He’s in a bad way and Liam’s not looking too hot either. Just as he’s beginning to reconsider that whole suicide pact thing, Liam gets a determined look on his face and scales up again. He’s nearly to the top when he does it.

He howls.

Benny forgets about the pain. Everything falls away. The water, the throbbing, the tiredness… The world stops. His eyes glow.

Click.

Liam loses purchase on the wall and slips, but then Scott’s there and Benny’s skin hums and it feels like coming home. They’re safe now. Everything’s gonna be okay.

Splash.

**///**

Allison barely registers Melissa’s presence at Benny’s side, too busy clutching his still too cold hand. An IV feeds the good stuff into him and his vitals are holding steady. At least that’s what the doctors tell her, and she doesn’t have a reason to believe otherwise. The bandage around his head and the stark white cast around his arm are visual reminders of just how fragile he is. She wonders if Scott ever feels this way about the humans in his life – remembers she is one too. Her hand ghosts over her side unconsciously in memory of _that night_. 64 stitches and _a mugging gone wrong_. She taps her fingers against Benny’s wrist, timing it to the beat of his pulse. He’ll be fine, she knows, but she can’t leave him alone right now. This is too much.

That night she had laid eyes on her dead aunt and felt sick. The beautiful, intelligent, free-thinking Amazonian warrior she’d once known was long gone, replaced by this shell of a woman she barely recognises. It kills her to think that Benny will never know the Kate she knew, will never love the Kate she loved.

Benny’s eyelids twitch and Allison refocuses on the present once more. Slowly, Benny’s eyes open and Allison is struck again by how much his eyes are like Kate’s were – a vibrant green filled with life. She brushes Benny’s hair back as his eyes come into focus and offers up a smile.

Benny’s returning smile is more a quirk of the lips than anything else, but it’s been 36 hours since Benny’s been conscious, so she’ll take what she can get.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, and Benny raises an eyebrow.

“Not as bad as you look if you can make that face. Guess you don’t need this?” She waves a tumbler of ice water under his nose and he half-raises himself up before falling as his muscles protest the movement. Allison chuckles half-heartedly, planting a bendy straw in the glass and bringing it to his lips.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and she may allow him a longer sip than is medically advisable before pulling away.

“Thanks.” He says as he wipes his sleeve across his lips – or tries to, finding a cast obstructing the movement.

“Huh.” He remarks dully as he takes it in. Allison grins before pulling her bag close to her and rummaging through it until she finds what she needs. She brandishes a sparkly, fragranced pink sharpie like a lethal weapon and grins maniacally.

“Can I sign your cast?” The oh-so-innocent question has never sounded as terrifying as it does just then, and Benny finds himself feeling lucky that Jane isn’t here to witness this.

Trapped between Allison and the wall, Benny has no choice but to allow it.

**///**

It’s not as bad as Benny feared, really, just the Argent crest and The Code written on an arrow, and Allison’s name written in a florally handwriting that she says is another form of Hunter Camouflage, which Benny calls bullshit on, but whatever.

She leaves a while later with promises to return with the rest of the pack and Benny dozes for a while. He has vague recollections of Melissa coming in to change his dressing, but otherwise, the drugs do a really good job of keeping him comatose.

*

He’s discharged a few days later, with strict instructions to stay out of trouble from Melissa and a bunch of doodles on his cast by the pack.

He and Liam have a stronger bond now, and it reminds Benny of his closeness to Ethan , but it’s also different to that, so Benny chalks it up to ‘We survived being hit by a car and trapped in a well together’ and calls it a day. He tries not to examine it too closely and throws all his energy into helping Allison study for the PSATs. They make it fun, somehow, studying, which is… mind-boggling, because well, _studying_.

It’s approaching two in the morning and Allison is in her rattiest t-shirt and gym shorts raided from her dad’s closet, snacking on a pretzel and staring at a glaringly bright green cue card. Her legs are twisted around a bedpost and the top half of her body is hanging off the bed.

Benny is close to dozing on the swivel chair until she lobs an eraser at his head with deadly accuracy. It barely rouses him anymore and his eyes close again. The eraser this time is attached to a pencil and he thanks Chris’s crazy training when he catches it centimetres from his eye. He tosses it back to her but she catches it and rights herself, gathering her hair in a bun with the pencil.

“You promised to help me study.” She pouts, a tactic he is sure works on guys who are trying to get lucky with her, but since eww to all of that, he just raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t realize this is what you meant. It’s the PSATs, for crying out loud, it’s like the minors.” He looks absolutely horrified when he makes the sports reference and looks like he wants to climb out of his skin.

“Dear God, I’m _assimilating_. Jock speak has leaked into my brain.” In response, Allison chucks a wad of paper at his head. The toilet flushes and Lydia strides in, looking flawless as ever in sleep shorts and a tank top. She ruins the mystique by yawning and stretching like a cat and all but crawling under the covers. She seems unbothered by the little armada of stationery supplies around her and goes to sleep seconds later.

“See, even Lydia’s punching out. I’m going to bed.”

“Weak sauce, Bennett, _weak_.” Allison calls out and he whirls around at the mention of his full name only to find her drifting off too, straight into her meticulously organised notes. He gestures and all of her things float neatly onto her desk and a blanket coasts down onto her person. The detritus flies into the bin and Benny walks off smugly, impressing himself with the display. A few months ago, he knows, he would have bombed so hard doing that, but now it’s so easy.

**///**

With all the prep work they’ve done the night before, Allison is _so_ ready for this test. Not everyone is, though as Malia is anxious as they wait to go in. Stiles doesn’t exactly help matters as he corrects her and Allison pinches his side. He flails wildly and she glares, unfazed at his paltry attempt to do the same.

“Malia, you’re doing this, because while we’re trying not to die, we still need to live.” Allison bites the inside of her cheek to not laugh at that line, because hold the cheese please, but Scott’s not done. The laughter is curbed by his saying that he wants to go to a good college and Allison finds herself wanting the same.

Kira’s optimism about the next 3 hours has her wanting to laugh again, though, because not with the life they lead, sweetie.

The invigilator gives Allison the creeps and she resists the urge to walk right out. There’s something smarmy about the guy that she doesn’t like, something that stays her hand when given the packet to put her phone in. She caves though under Ms Martin’s stare, but a cold finger of dread works its way down her spine as the envelope is sealed. She makes her way to her seat, sending Malia discreet thumbs up as she does. Poor kid.

The man gives them a breakdown of how the test is structured then asks after Coach Finstock. The tense feeling Allison has doubles as soon as Ms Martin leaves the room and her hand unwittingly curls into a fist.

Something isn’t right here.

Something bad is coming.

*

Sydney collapses and Allison’s fingers itch for a weapon. She’s out of luck though, as all her weapons are tucked away in her trunk.

This is the first wave.

Ms Martin rushes to her, but Allison’s eyes never leave the invigilator. He seems very blasé about it, not even flinching a little. He’s a very good actor though, putting on a good front for Ms Martin as she looks on. This cannot be good.

They watch as she leaves the room, and hear as, a few minutes later, she runs down the hall, telling some kids not to come in. Allison’s stomach turns as she takes it in, wondering what the hell is going on.

When the hazmat team rolls in, Allison finds herself wanting to unclench, but knowing she can’t, because she knows this isn’t some _human_ thing. Not with her gut screaming at her to pay attention, not with that _man_ in her school. Not with the deadpool hanging over their heads.

She doesn’t let her guard down, not even for a second, not even for a moment, not even for a breath.

She finds herself sitting cross-legged on a desk next to Stiles as he lists possible diseases they could have, and Allison’s gut pings louder when the man does absolutely nothing to calm the adolescents in his care, in fact, probably making an already bad situation into all the colours of fucked up. She shares a look with Stiles, happy not to be alone in this. Then Malia tells them that the Sheriff is with the hordes outside, and having an adult in the know can only be a good thing – Stiles getting up to phone him is a great way to settle her nerves.  
Only to have them rearing their ugly heads again by the invigilator’s creepy next words: “Don’t bother, they would have shut down any access to any outside communication by now. No cell-service, no Wi-Fi, no starting a panic. Looks like we’re all gonna have to wait here and see what happens.”

Nothing happens for a while except that Scott disappears and they’re made to line up to check their vitals. Malia looks like she has questions to ask but has no idea how to ask them and Kira looks nervous about something. Allison watches how her eyes track the needle and pieces together why.

“Kira,” Malia asks, voice sounding strained and awkward, “…do you ever get the feeling that Scott and Stiles aren’t telling you everything?”

For the first time, the churning in Allison’s stomach has nothing to do with the invigilator and everything to do with what Malia’s saying. Isn’t she doing the same thing with Benny? Hiding something important from him? Not telling him everything? _Lying_?

Does he even need to know about Kate though? Won’t that be painful and unnecessary? She’s hardly human at this point – will she even know what being a mother could possibly mean? Even if all the answers are yes, is it fair to keep her from her son?

“What? No, I’ve never been under Scott’s bed, or in it, only on it… with clothes?” Kira fumbles her way through a question Allison missed, and she smiles at how cute Kira is. She’s good for Scott, and the sooner they get their shit together, the better for everyone.

And then Kira electrocutes the lady with the needle and everything clicks into place.

This isn’t a contamination at all, it’s a _hit._

In the confusion surrounding the electrocution, Malia drags Kira away and they make their escape, making plans to go into the Hale vault. The vault that only Hale claws can get into. It’s a big risk, but it’s not like they have a lot of options right now, so they go. The virus finally affects her as they’re walking down the stairs and she stumbles into Kira as she misses a step. Kira keeps a steady hand on her wrist the rest of the way, letting go when they reach the vault.

They find it behind an iron shelf and debate on how to open it, lying again to Malia. She knows something’s up and when she accidently gives them an easy out, they take it, and Allison feels worse. It’s not even about Malia, who _trusts_ them, who allows herself to be lulled into this false sense of security because she has no reason not to, but because it’s for those same reasons that she hasn’t said anything to Benny yet. Benny, who is her cousin, who shares her blood, who, in the short time they’ve known each other, has come to mean so much to her that words can’t even explain it.

She’s lying to him, and lying to Malia, and sooner or later the scales are going to tip, and it’s gonna be a hell of a mess.

She doesn’t know if she’s ready for that yet.

**///**

Benny’s getting the stitches in his head taken out when he sees Nurse McCall, (call me Melissa, please, everyone else does), rushing down the hall with a gurney and Dr Deaton. He knows instantly that it has something to do with the supernatural and jumps up from his bed, startling his doctor. He barely feels the pain of torn skin as he catches up to them at the elevators. Blood falls into his eye, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the man spitting up black blood, and especially not from the woman next to him.

“Aunt Satomi?!”

*

In the morgue, Melissa has him sit on a slab as she cleans his wounds, tutting as she clears the blood away, disapproval written on every line of her face. Benny doesn’t notice, too busy taking in one of his grandmother’s oldest friends. (Older than he thought too, which is saying something.)

“This is gonna scar, you know.” Melissa is saying, snapping the thread, done with the stitching.

“Babe magnet.” He says absently, running a hand down the site of the wound until Melissa bats his hand away.

“Boys.” She mutters as she redirects her attention to the body in front of her.

That saps the smile right off Benny’s face and he stands. He’s still a little wobbly, but not too bad.

Dr Deaton is drilling into the dude’s skull, which is so many levels of gross that Benny chooses to focus on Satomi. She’s transfixed on the autopsy going on and looks about as sick as he feels. It’s not just about the sawing or the cutting or the blood, which is too much on its own, but also the possibility that this could be happening to his friends too.

“You were only a child when I saw you last.” Aunt Satomi says, looking away from her fallen pack member for the first time. “Barely came up to my knee. You were a hyperactive little thing, always running around, like the energizer bunny. Your grandma would get such a light in her eyes when she talked about you.” Benny shifts uncomfortably, not used to people knowing his grandma anymore.

“She talked about you a lot in her last days, you know, about how you guys met, and how you managed to stay friends all these years. She missed you, said she hoped that wherever you ended up, that you were safe.” He licks his lips, which feel dry, only to taste salt and realize with growing horror that he’s crying.

Satomi bundles him up in her arms and he lets go, breaking down in a way he hasn’t allowed himself to in a while.

“I hate to break this up,” Dr Deaton interrupts, and Benny lifts his head out of the circle of Satomi’s arms to look at the man, “…but I think I know what this is, and if I’m right and Scott and the rest are infected, it’s not good. They’re going to die without an antidote.”

**///**

Hearing Scott and Stiles talk about their monetary problems makes Allison feel wrong inside. She knows that she’s yards away from being in the same boat as them, and it doesn’t seem fair. She knows Kira feels the same, because her mom is Old Money and her dad used to be a professor in New York. They’re not hurting for cash. She knows Lydia and her mom are struggling too, with most of their money going into appearances, and Allison is desperate for a change of subject. Her head feels heavy and it pains with every breath she takes. She knows the others are probably worse off, but she hates this. She hugs her knees to her chest and lays her head against the wall behind her.   
She sees Scott and Stiles in the corner of her eye, getting into what looks like a pretty heated conversation. She catches snippets of it as she drifts, hears Peter’s name and knows it can’t be a fun conversation. She’s too nauseated to care really, too dizzy to pay attention. Her mind wanders and she thinks again of the parallels of her lies. Kate and Peter, and Malia and Benny. Mother and Father and the kids they’re keeping from them. These messed up psychopaths and the lengths she’s willing to go for the people she cares about. Thinking about it only makes her feel worse, so she closes her eyes and tries, instead, to imagine herself eating crepes on the streets of Paris, far, far away from Beacon Hills.

It serves as a distraction for a while, but eventually reality kicks in, and it does so when Stiles moves.

He has a moment with Malia, shrugs his jacket off and heads outside, leaving her alone with terminal werewolves and Kira, She knows she’s sort of responsible for them, what with being the healthiest person in the room right now, but given that her vision swims every time she moves her head, she’s not feeling too good with how this’ll turn out.

**///**

Deaton explains what he’s discovered and what he knows about what’s causing this. He’s terrified for Allison, terrified for everyone really, but mostly his cousin. This thing, whatever it is, is killing werewolves and since most of the people he associates with are that, he doesn’t feel too good.

Hearing Derek say that this thing is _weaponized_ does nothing to alleviate his fears and Benny slumps further in his seat. He feels useless sitting here listening to people talk when he could be more valuable literally anywhere else. And then Derek hits the right note.

Hearing his Aunt Satomi speak so glibly about assassins threatens to send him back to his sunken place, but then she looks at Derek and starts talking about his mom. Having something, some _one_ in common with Derek is a pretty foreign concept, but also kinda cool, having this link to someone outside of their pack relations is like a breath of fresh air, something he doesn’t even realize he missed.

“I remember the tea. You always brought that tea that smelt… terrible.”

“I totally remember the tea too. It was the only thing that kept me and Ethan away from trying to listen to Grown-Up conversations. We had a running game of who could stand the smell longer. We always tied.” Benny smiles sadly, remembering his Grandma threatening to shove some of that down his throat if he kept on with whatever bad thing he’d been doing that time.

Aunt Satomi laughs softly. “I brought that tea as a gift. They both loved it.”

“What kind of tea?” Deaton asks, breaking another moment. Derek still winks at Benny though, and he knows this changes everything.

The godawful tea is apparently the cure, wild purple reishi, and luckily, Derek’s mom has some in the vault. They scramble to get the message to anyone close enough. Doesn’t matter who.

**///**

Allison watches as her friends get sicker, feeling worthless. She can feel herself getting better, and hates that they’re getting worse. This is not what she signed up for. She can’t, she won’t let anyone else die. There’s been enough blood.

There’s been enough pain.

She gets up and stretches , bones popping as she moves. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Malia’s hunched form, and the girl looks pretty bad. Shaking and curled up, looking like a kid in Stiles’ jacket. She watches as Malia pulls something from the jacket’s pocket, knows what it is without even having to look, tries to stop her, fails along with Scott, and then Malia says the words.

“I can’t see.”

*

They’re worse. All of them. It’s pretty bad, and Allison’s freaking. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. They’re all supposed to go on and have these amazing lives, because that’s how it works. She’s supposed to be a gymnast on the American team, and Lydia’s gonna be there cheering her on when she takes gold and she’s supposed to return the favour when Lydia wins the Fields Medal. She’s supposed to watch Scott and Kira get married and have adorably awkward kids, and Scott’s supposed to be a vet, and Kira’s supposed to be whatever the hell she wants, and Malia, she’s supposed to be better than her parents… and this is not how it’s supposed to go, damn it. This is not The Plan.

And then Stiles pulls through.

She smashes the jar of wild purple reishi on the floor because it seems easier than anything else, and it works. They get up and Stiles holds onto Scott tighter than the time they almost got blown up by the darach, and it’s good for five seconds, until Malia sees what’s written on the deadpool.

Malia Hale.

Well, fuck.

*

She calls Benny when they’re released from quarantine, hugs her dad as he races to her, and tries to be a normal teenager who went through something traumatic _for the first time_ for two minutes. It doesn’t do anything, just makes the itch under her skin worse. She knows she has to tell Benny, saw how hurt Malia was, but the selfish part of her doesn’t ever want to see that pained look directed at her. She knows Stiles must hate himself right now, but she can’t focus on that right now, can’t focus on anything right now.

Instead, she lets herself enjoy this moment, safe in her daddy’s arms, where, for just this space in time, nothing can hurt her.


	11. Chapter 11

After the latest attempt on their lives, things have been strained with Malia and Stiles. Allison can’t make herself focus on that right now, because as much as she would like to help, she just can’t stop thinking about Benny. Seeing the negative effect this is having on a _couple_ is only solidifying her decision to not tell Benny anything. She knows, logically, that the longer she waits, the worse it’s gonna be, but every time she tries, the words stick in her throat and die there. She’s tried talking to her dad about it, but he’s still very much against telling him at all, so he’s of absolutely no help. And also, they still have to worry about _assassins_ , because _clearly_ her life doesn’t have enough melodrama.

Right now they’re workshopping a plan which is borderline insane in her opinion, but her life stopped making any sense since she moved here, so this is all old hat by now.

Liam, however, this is all very new to, so he obviously has some concerns.

“…But, isn’t it kinda dangerous?” He asks and Allison shrugs, because, well…

Stiles sums it up pretty well, saying what they’re all feeling and the conversation moves along. A lot of exposition later, and they’re going over the plan once again. Allison isn’t comfortable with any of this, but none of them really are, so her feelings are moot.

When they’re done and waiting for Mrs Yukimura, Allison goes to sit down on a chair. She hates this part, the _waiting_ , it drives her nuts. Waiting means more time to think, and more time to think means more time to dissect the plan, more time to expose the flaws and that’s not exactly the road she wants to go down right now.

“Hey.” Benny says softly, handing her a can of Sprite. 

“Hey.” She volleys back, tugging on the ring pull to open it.

“You good? You’re looking kinda peaked.” Benny asks, and the concern in his voice is almost enough to make her unravel. She makes a conscious effort to unclench her jaw and relax her muscles. It doesn’t do much, but it does help a little.

“This is a phenomenally bad idea, isn’t it?” he asks when the silence goes on for too long.

“Oh yeah.” She says, before chugging back her soda.

As she’s doing this, the door opens and Mrs Yukimura walks in. “Too late to back out now.” She says, slamming the can down on the table.

*

Standing around Scott’s body in a morgue is definitely nowhere on Allison’s bucket list, and yet here they are. Everyone’s had their turn to confirm that Scott’s heart is still beating, but having to look at him like this is still unsettling to say the least. Melissa walks in, wiping away tears, which only adds to the tension in the room.

Unsurprisingly, being told that her son will likely die after 45 minutes of being like this does not help to keep Melissa calm, but she takes it on the chin, focussing on something else. She takes in Benny’s cast and raises an eyebrow.

“Should you even be here, mister? Doesn’t having your dominant arm out of commission mean that at least one of you is safe at home?”

“I tried to make him stay home Melissa, but he wouldn’t go for it.” Allison explains, so as to keep her ire far away from herself.

“I can cast spells with one hand, I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s pretty much healed anyway.”

“Not for at least another few weeks, it’s not.” Melissa argues, folding her arms and setting her face into an expression that could make the toughest criminal on the planet expose all their secrets.

“I heal faster than a regular human would, okay? Slower, maybe, than the super-freaks, sure, but faster than, say, the squishy humans.” He swings his arm around and pats Stiles’ shoulder. In the face of Stiles’ glare, Benny only winks like a true Argent would.

“I cannot with you Argents, seriously.” Stiles huffs and edges away, dejected. Liam slaps a subtle high-five into Benny’s palm and Allison stifles a snort.

“Kira, think you can cut this off with your badass kitsune sword?” Benny asks, apparently unafraid of Melissa’s far-reaching wrath, or maybe despite it.

Kira has enough sense to look at both her mom and Melissa and upon getting their reluctant assent, strides over. She slides her sword carefully under the plaster and cuts upwards, allowing it to fall in two perfect halves on the floor. Benny’s arm looks pretty disgusting, paler than the rest of him and looks too weak to lift a pencil, let alone a crossbow.

A flick of his wrist and some pretty amazing purple sparks later, and it looks like nothing even happened to it.

“Told you, picture of health.” Melissa is so many levels of unimpressed, but there’s a clock, so she’s not gonna lay into him at this particular moment.

Allison will not want to be Benny later though.

“Okay. Stiles, why don’t you take Benny with you?” Allison suggests, taking precautionary measures to ensure her cousin lives a tiny bit longer.

Stiles grumbles but eventually concedes, dragging Benny by his hoodie.

**///**

Benny loads a bolt into his crossbow while his uncle sets up the laptop. The crossbow is quickly becoming his favourite weapon, mostly due to the fact that it reminds him of the Yugi-Oh duel disk he used to play with as a kid. It’s also a pretty kick-ass weapon.

He hears Stiles and Uncle Chris arguing about ‘Assassin Speak’, and finds himself agreeing with Stiles, since they’re both geeks. He doesn’t say anything though, just double-checks his supplies to make sure he has everything and lets their conversation fade into background noise.

The clicking of keys eventually stops and he follows his uncle up to the roof, standing guard for any surprises. There aren’t any on the roof, but the night’s still young.

He has no idea what kind of surprise he’s actually in for.

*

When he’s done, he goes back to Stiles to help keep an eye on the cameras only to narrowly miss getting hit by Liam on his way out. He raises his hands in a ‘what gives’ kind of way and Stiles just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Deciding he doesn’t actually care, he sidles up next to Stiles and sees the reason for himself. A camera’s acting up on the roof, and that can only be a bad thing.

“I’m going after them.” He says, only to jerk back as Stiles tugs at his hood.

“No, you’re not. You’re staying here with me.”

“I’ll be more useful up there.”

“Look, kid, you may think you’re tough shit, but you’re not. And frankly, Allison scares me more than the deadpool does, so plant your butt on that chair and don’t move.”

Benny doesn’t particularly like the idea of being benched, but with no other options, he sighs and obeys. He fiddles with his crossbow, making sure to look worried enough to make Stiles squirm and then easily puts everything back together.

He sees Stiles glare and go back to his vigil, but he knows the older kid’s rattled.

**///**

There are berserkers on the roof. Berserkers usually mean Kate and Kate means that Allison is running out of time. She can’t worry about that now, needs to focus on the here and now, because – _because._

These things are dangerous and Kira and Liam aren’t going to be enough. She nocks an arrow into her bow and levels it at the unprotected socket of the berserker mask. Liam wrecks her shot and the arrow goes wild, sailing harmlessly to the ground. She fumbles with her next arrow as she watches the beta get tossed away like a ragdoll, but still manages to get it in. Kira does some impressive acrobatics with her sword, but they’re getting beaten pretty solidly.

She lets another arrow fly only for the berserker to catch it and snap it in half. She doesn’t let up, letting loose a barrage of arrows, hoping to get lucky. If they don’t weaken him, maybe they’ll distract him enough for them to get off this roof. Kira, it would seem has a similar idea, but her plan seems to mostly be to get _Liam_ away. Allison can work with that.

With renewed ambition, she nocks another arrow and steadies her bow.

**///**

When the power goes out, Benny and Stiles are pretty much sitting ducks, so they abandon their posts and look for his uncle. He ends up pointing the business end of his crossbow between the man’s eyes, but if he factors in the gun in his face, he’d say they’re pretty even on that front. Stiles looks like he has zero fucks left to give and just raises his hands, but with the threat neutralized, Benny lowers his arm and Chris does the same.  
Stiles explains the situation they’re in and Chris instructs them on their next move, which is pretty boring.

“I’m coming with you.” Benny finds himself saying, falling into step next to Chris. Chris squeezes his shoulders, turns him around and shoves him at Stiles. “Stay.”

Benny bites at the air in an imitation of a bad puppy and Chris levels him with an unimpressed expression. He pulls Benny close and whispers in his ear. “Stand guard. Keep both of them safe.”

Benny nods and follows after Stiles, who doesn’t ask.

“Hey, how come you got the gun in your face and not me?”

“He evaluated who the bigger threat was, obviously.”

“Shut up, Weir.”

“Hey, you asked.”

**///**

Allison’s out of ammo, she’s covered in blood and she’s pretty wiped. This sucker’s too much for the three of them. Their asses are getting handed to them and a gambling man knows when he’s beat. She throws her bow at the thing, grabs Liam when it’s distracted and gets them off the roof. Kira’s right behind her and slams the door shut. They pile whatever they can get in front of the door and make a break for it, not stopping until they’re as far as they can possibly get.

Her side is burning and her heart-rate’s up, but she doesn’t give a damn. As luck would have it, they’ve stopped in front of a bathroom and Allison barges in, paying no attention to the man on the door. It’s empty anyway, and she goes straight for the sinks, washing as much of the blood away as she possibly can.

This night is testing all her limits right now, and she cannot wait for it to be over. She checks her watch, wincing at the cracked screen, but also at the 10 minute warning.

They’re running out of time.

**///**

Stiles is trying to get Chris on the phone, in full-on panic mode because they’re cutting it pretty close.

Just as he’s asking why Chris isn’t answering his phone, the man himself crashes through the doors with a warning.

“Run.”

Too late though, as a berserker strides in as soon as he says that and makes for Stiles. Benny jumps in its path, but does nothing to halt its momentum as the creature just picks him up by the throat and slams him into a wall. He reaches up to try and pry the claws away from his throat, not having much success.

And then a blonde walks in and time… stops.

No.

She’s a little older than her photo, a little more broken, but he’s stared enough at the only thing he really has of her to know.

Mom.

His futile struggles cease as he takes her in.

Live and in colour.

The crazy bitch that birthed him.

The _crazy bitch_ who’s supposed to be dead.

Ladies and gentlemen… Kate Argent.

She hasn’t noticed him yet, has only eyes for Chris and Stiles and the precious cargo they’re guarding. She pays no mind to what her beast has snared in its trap.

It’s a small relief to know that his mother isn’t The Benefactor, but its cut short when his uncle sticks a gun under his sister’s throat.

She takes it well though, not even flinching at all.

“I always forget you carry two.”

Chris responds with a generic “Back off” and if Benny had more air, he’d probably make a quip about how Stiles is right about his lack of wit, but he doesn’t have oxygen to spare.

“You sure you can pull that trigger fast enough?”

There follows a familial squabble and a fragile treaty is agreed upon.

“Take the berserkers and go. Kate, _please_. We have a _plan_.”

She calls her monster off and he drops Benny and _finally_ she gets a good look at him.

“Kaden.” She says, her voice a breathy whisper, not daring to speak louder than that.

Benny’s too busy hacking up a lung to reply, but Stiles saves him the effort.

“No, Benny actually. Proof of your unholy union. Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

Kate doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to Stiles, laser-focussed on Benny, so he offers her the same courtesy.

“I thought for sure the old bat would have tossed you in the river the minute I ghosted.”

“ _The old bat’s_ my grandmother, and no one talks shit about her.”

Kate laughs and flips her hair, seemingly back on solid ground now that she’s insulted someone. “Guess she bit it if you’re with your uncle Chrissy now.” She reaches over and pats Chris’ cheek roughly.

“Cancer.”

“I don’t actually care. See you around, Chris. Don’t wreck my kid.”

She turns on her heel and strides off, cool as anything.

Benny feels two distinctive, contradictive emotions – rejection and relief.

And then he takes a sharp turn into Betrayal Avenue when he realizes…

“You lied to me.”

“Benny, you have to understand…”

“I don’t have to understand anything, actually, because all that matters is _you lying to me_.”

“When we first met, Benny, I thought she was dead. We all thought she was dead. We had a funeral for her and everything.”

“You didn’t seem too surprised to see her here tonight.”

His uncle looks like he’s gearing up to lie again, so Benny lifts his crossbow and points. His arm is shaking, but his intent is clear. “Don’t lie to me again.”

“When you visited Ethan for his birthday, Scott and the rest went to Mexico looking for Derek. They found him, but they also found Kate.”

Benny’s anger spikes and he grits his teeth to prevent himself from saying something he’ll regret.

“You’ve been lying to me for _weeks_?” Benny’s voice cracks in his anger, but he doesn’t care, too far gone to even notice.

“Does Allison know? What am I saying? Of _course_ she knows. I bet _you_ knew too.” Benny points at Stiles and he doesn’t say anything, but his silence speaks volumes.

“Benny, we just wanted to protect you, wanted to keep you safe. Kate, she’s dangerous. She’s unhinged. She’s not the kind of mother you deserve.”

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that for myself?! Don’t I get a say in my own fucking life?! Who even are _you_ to decide who’s good enough for me? You’re not my grandmother, okay!” Benny is on the brink of a meltdown, but keeps a remarkable game face on. He walks to the doors and doesn’t look at either of them.

“No one will ever be.”

**///**

Allison bumps into Benny on her way to the morgue and the look on his face sets her on edge.

“Ben, you okay?” He walks past her and doesn’t seem to hear her, so she reaches out and grabs his bicep. He shrugs her off and walks on, but she’s not gonna let it be that easy.

“Wanna try some words with that brush-off, or no?”

“Leave me alone, Allison.”

“Benny, are you okay?” He rolls his eyes and jerks out of her grasp, walking with purpose out the doors.

Her phones buzzes with a text and she pulls it out.

All it says are two words: He knows.

**///**

She’s okay. She’s totally fine. She’s fucking great. She’s Kate Argent, and she’s _amazing._

But.

The one thing she thought she ever did right was keep her kid away from her life. She knows she’s no saint, never tried to be, but she never wanted to taint her kid. She’s poison, she’d have ruined him by touching him. And now, now he’s here, and from the little glimpse she’d gotten, a Hunter.

At least he’s with Chris though, Chris is good people, loathe as she is to admit it. He’ll do right by the kid. Benny. Her kid’s name is Benny.

Fuck.

She gets a hold of herself when she gets to the Plant, and hopes that Peter doesn’t catch on. She doesn’t trust him, which is fine , because he doesn’t trust her.

Their entire alliance is based off a mutual distrust, which is why it works.

But she doesn’t let him get too close, knows that’s how people get burnt.

She fills him in on what she knows and they begin plotting their next phase.

**///**

Mason has absolutely no idea what’s going on with his friends right now. Benny seems fine, sure, but there’s definitely something up with the kid and Liam, well Liam is undeniably _not_ okay. None of them are talking to him about it, for some reason and it’s driving him crazy.

But now’s not the time to ask – they’re too sober for that – so instead he pretends.

“Hey, am I gonna see you at the bonfire tonight?” He asks, and Benny jumps, seemingly lost in his brooding.

Liam hedges, says he’s thinking about skipping, but Mason sees the hole in that story and exploits it, trapping them both in one move.

“But you’re on the _lacrosse_ team. Don’t you _have_ to go?”

He tries to bail out, but Mason persists.

Liam spaces and looks out into the middle distance, freaking Mason out a little, but not enough to call it off.

He’s not serious about the lacrosse player, has ulterior motives, and has no plans to back off.

Liam concedes and Mason sets his eyes on the tougher sell, Benny, who, despite being on the team, hasn’t played a game of lacrosse since he’s been here, and doesn’t seem to care one way or the other about Mason’s relationships.

“You’re coming too, right Weir? Cause I need a wingman, and Liam bombs when it comes to talking to dudes.”

“What makes you think I’ll be any better?”

“You mean you don’t notice your fan club?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Dude, come on, there’s a bunch of girls in our class, and even some _upperclassmen_ , who want to have your babies. You can’t tell me you didn’t pick up on that.”

Benny shrugs, because _no_ he hasn’t. His life’s been one supernatural crisis after another since he’s been here. He has no idea how anyone else even has time for relationships. (It’s probably easier for them, because most of their dating is in-pack, so everyone’s in the know…)

“At my old school, I wasn’t considered prime real estate, so can’t say I have, no.”

“Dude, trust me – you’re the catch of the day around here.”

“Still doesn’t explain how _I’m_ supposed to help _you._ ”

“Oh, ye of little faith. Let’s walk and talk.”

**///**

Allison has reached Peak-Frustration with the Men in Her Life. They’re just so… ugh. They’re stubborn and competitive which, when put together, makes for a pretty volatile combination. Benny, she gets. She gets where he’s coming from (she’s _trying_ to,), so she’s not that done with him, her _dad_ though, just – sometimes…

It’s enough to make her want to tear her hair out. He’s never been the guy who blinks first.

He doesn’t _do_ apologies, which only serves to make the situation in their house that much more unbearable. Everyone’s tiptoeing around the huge ass elephant in the room, and Allison does not have designs on being mediator. But with her dad being the way he’s being, there’s not a lot of hope for an easy reconciliation anytime soon.

Her dad has a duffel bag slung across his shoulders when she gets out of the shower and he stops when he sees her, looking shifty.

“Dad, where are you going?” She asks, working her wet hair into a bun.

“I got a lead on something important. I’ll be back soon.”

She’s very much not impressed by that answer and waits for an elaboration. 

“I have to go. Don’t burn the house down.” He takes her face between his hands and kisses the top of her head. He’s gone before she can work up enough anger to yell at him properly.

Men.

 **///**

Benny’s never been the guy who goes to parties, or goes clubbing, or stays out past curfew for anything that wasn’t a massive DnD campaign. This is still new territory for him, the _in_ crowd and he’s still not sure what the big deal even _is._ The music sucks, there’s too many people and Ethan isn’t here. He always thought that if he’d ever been a king in a place even resembling a school building, he’s have his best buddy right there with him to take it all in.

All he has are Liam and Mason and that’s fine, but they’re each other’s Ethans and they don’t need him stepping on that. But White Chapel is a chapter in his life that’s over now, and Beacon Hills is his home in a way he’s never felt in White Chapel and Liam is his in a way he still doesn’t understand, and deep down he knows going back is not an option anymore.

“You not gonna tell me to slow down?” Liam’s voice breaks into Benny’s sombre musings and Benny blinks.

“Actually I was gonna say keep drinking. I think you should get drunk, and I mean stumbling-down, fall-on-your-ass, passed-out, face-in-the-toilet drunk.”

Liam laughs and asks why, and Benny looks down at his own laced soda and wonders too.

“Maybe then, when I ask you what’s going on, you’ll be too drunk to lie.”

And now Benny feels sick. Worse than sick. He feels at once like road-kill _and_ the car that put it there. Mason’s a pretty intelligent guy, loyal too, enough to stick with Liam through all his shit, but he has his limits too.

Benny tries to imagine going through his first encounter with the supernatural without Ethan in the trenches with him and feels like an absolute heel. But this is not his secret to keep and not his story to tell, but there’s just so many people keeping so many secrets and he’s so goddamn tired of it all.

Liam gets up and walks away and Benny’s heart hurts for both of them, because this isn’t fair and it’s not okay, and none of them ever asked for this.

Benny knows he never asked for it either, but being born the way he was, with this amazing power lying dormant for so long, he was always destined for this road, but Liam? This is just the shit-storm his life has turned into.

“You drunk enough to give me answers, Weir?”

“You’re not drunk enough to believe me.”

With that cryptic message, Benny gets up and walks to Malia and Scott, who seem to be in the middle of an intense conversation based on Scott’s face.

“We had our reasons…” Scott is saying, barely blinking at Benny’s presence, suddenly addressing both of them.

“We didn’t tell you about Peter, or Kate –“

“To protect us.” Malia says, still hopping around. Scott admitting he knew about Kate is like a punch to the throat but Benny has enough sense in him to not let that show.

Malia’s still talking, still dancing, still pretending that everything’s fine.

“…And guess what he what he said next? That you were _right_. Does that surprise you?”

Hearing that Malia actually spoke to her dad is a painful note, since his own fucking mom _walked out on him_. Again. He misses what Scott says next, wrapped up in his thoughts, but notices when Malia stumbles. She’s drunk. But werewolves can’t get drunk?

Unless they’re like vampires, who apparently can. But that’s basing it off of Erica’s word, and she’s not the most reliable when it comes to the truth.

Scott drags Malia over to where Liam is, and the kid doesn’t look too hot either. Mason assures them that he hasn’t had enough to drink to get him to this stage and as Scott tries to make a plan, he stumbles too and Benny knows he hasn’t had any alcohol, had been in the room when coach had nixed that idea and hears the whispers on the wind.

Scoot confirms it, with his next words.

“It’s not the drinks. It’s the music.”

“Dude, I know the DJ has the shittiest taste in the world, but I don’t think they’re sober enough to care.” Mason interjects, because he doesn’t know better, doesn’t know _anything_ , because they’re _lying_ to him. Everyone just keeps on lying.

“Don’t let them out of your sight.” Is Scott’s parting words as he lumbers over to the DJ booth.

He wants to follow, knows it’s about the deadpool, but before he takes a step, two security guards are there and trying to take Malia and Liam away and he’s not about to let that happen.

Mason, it seems, is on the same page. “Hey, these are my friends!”

“Your friends are overly intoxicated. They need to be escorted out.”

“Okay, we’ll go with them.” Benny says, stepping closer to Liam. The man is not having that though, and that’s enough to let Benny know that they’re not real security at all.

He wants to blast them away from his friends, but there are too many people, too many eyes, but he doesn’t make it easy, eyes flashing violet as he tries to tackle the man. He sees Mason notice and thinks ‘Oh Fuck’, but the second of distraction costs him and the man tosses him aside. He lands on the grass and the two weres disappear from view. He puts his hands behind his head and pushes up, popping up in a move he and Allison spent weeks perfecting.

Mason looks suitably impressed, as do the two guys who were coming over to help him, but he doesn’t have time to revel in their praise right now. Mason seems to shake himself out of it too, enough to make an important observation.

“Dude, your eyes…”

“Yeah, I know. Long story. Look, I’ll tell you everything you wanna know later, I promise, but right now, Liam’s in danger. I know this is a big ask, but I need you to trust me.”

Mason waffles for a second, seems to say Fuck it and asks: “What do you need me to do?”

*

When Benny gets to the school, there’s a guy holding a lighter in Scott’s face. Scott’s too weak to move, so Benny thinks fast, using magic to blow the flame out. With what looks like a lot of effort, Scott turns his head to look in his way and manages a nod. The music stops and Benny breathes a sigh of relief.

The cavalry arrives just in time to kick some ass.

They’re all alive, all still here and Benny’s done. Completely wiped. This is all too much. And it’s not gonna stop. His eyes feel heavy and his head is spinning. Scott’s face is inches from his suddenly, and he seems to be saying his name, but all Benny’s getting is static. He crashes into the lockers on the opposite side from where Scott had been and slumps to the floor.

Something… something isn’t right.

**///**

Turns out there’s more than just the security guards after them. Someone figured out what Benny is, knows enough to get him in this state, and they’re somewhere close by. Mason runs in and goes straight for Liam, going in for a hug, but stopping when he notices the gasoline.

“Okay, someone has to tell me what the hell is going on right the fuck now. Benny, now would be a good time to keep your word.”

Scott doesn’t know what Mason’s talking about, but as soon as he catches sight of Benny, he doesn’t hesitate in getting closer.

“I know he’s not drunk, because I just saw him perform some pretty impressive acrobatics outside.”

Scott looks to Liam to gauge what the kid thinks he should do, but Liam only has eyes for Benny, not seeming to care about anything else. Scott wants to feel like a proud Alpha when he sees that, but he doesn’t think that this is a Pack thing. This is a Liam&Benny thing, but now’s not the time to ponder that. Now’s the time for action.

They’re not safe yet, _Benny’s_ not safe yet and this whole thing is turning into a nightmare.

It gets worse quickly when Benny’s eyes snap open, undeniably violet, and magical energy seems to pour out of him, making almost everyone fall where they stand. Scott, still standing, walks closer to Benny and watches as the boy struggles to get air into his lungs. Scott flashes back to himself at Benny’s age, remembers all too well the feeling, like something’s squeezing, constricting your airways, taking away something precious and leaving you weak.

His hands itch for an inhaler but he doesn’t have one anymore, ditched it the second it become redundant and now he feels lost without it. Benny heaves, coughing uncontrollably as his lungs fight the imposition with no visible effect.

_He’s just a kid._

_He’s worth $15 million_.

He’s _just_ a _kid._

_This isn’t right._

When Benny collapses into Scott’s arms, Scott notices the injection mark at the back of the kid’s neck. There’s a weird colour around it and he waves Derek over. The guy may not know what Parrish is, but he’s still more knowledgeable than Scott on mythology. Derek comes up to him, tilts Benny’s neck down (he’s frighteningly still in Scott’s arms and Scott is Not Okay.) and sniffs.

“Dragonfyre. Has to be. Powerful stuff, difficult to get your hands on unless you know the right people. The only sure-fire way to kill a mage other than a standard decapitation.”

Benny’s skin is haemorrhaging heat right now, turning colder and Scott feels useless. He tries to take some of the boy’s pain away, only he doesn’t seem to be in any pain, and that’s not good.

“Is there a cure?”

Surprisingly, Mason’s the one to supply it. “ _Glacies_ - _pugione_. They say you’d be pretty nuts to go looking for that though, as it’s said to be so cold that just touching it can take your fingers off, even _through_ thick gloves. Also, so we’re just gonna roll right past _standard decapitation_?”  
Off of everyone’s blank stares, he answers himself “Okay, so that’s… okay, what do I care?”

Scott looks at Derek about the glacies-pugione, who nods in affirmation. Well, shit.

“Call Deaton.” Scott says, bending down to lift Benny up in a fireman’s carry. He’s still covered in gasoline, still reeling from another attempt on his life, has Mason to deal with, and he knows this isn’t even close to being done.

Right now, all he’s focused on is getting Benny the help he needs.

**///**

Mason’s Weird-O-Meter is officially tapped out. He’s half convinced he ate a laced brownie and all of this is a pretty messed up trip. But if it’s not…. If it’s not, then one of his close friends is dying and he has to hope that the book he read on Mages in his grandmother’s study had been right and that he didn’t end up killing someone he’s grown quite fond of.

They’re in a vet’s office, which Mason is trying to understand, because shouldn’t they be going to a hospital? But Scott seems calmer now that they’re here, dragging Benny, who looks very dead right now, out of Derek’s car and into the office. The vet, it seems, is expecting them, directing Scott to put Benny down on the table. The name on his coat says Deaton, which helps put Mason a little at ease at least.

“Do you have it?” Scott is asking as he drops Benny down. Liam grabs Benny’s hand as soon as he does this and looks hopefully at Deaton. 

Dr Deaton, it would seem, is a man full of surprises as he nods.

“I do. As soon as I made an acquaintance with young Mr Weir, I reached out to a contact of mine in Alaska and they agreed to part with some.” He goes to his desk and pulls out a futuristic, sci-fi looking box. He unlatches it, and immediately, the temperature in the room drops as steam rushes out. He slaps on a pair of thick woollen gloves and extracts from the box a jar with something glowing inside and sets it on the table. Ice spreads across the wooden surface as easily as if it were in its liquid form. He unscrews the lid and uses tongs to extract what looks like a piece of kryptonite from it and brings it over. The tips of the tongs have already frosted over. It’s not even close to Benny’s mouth when his breath fogs up and his already blue tinted lips get bluer.

“You don’t expect him to eat that, do you?” Mason asks, half looking away from the entire thing.

“Unfortunately, yes. Given the state he’s in and how fast the Dragonfyre’s spreading through his system, this is the fastest and most painless way to stop it.”

It hardly looks painless, Mason wants to say, but holds his tongue. This was his idea after all. His _terrible idea,_ clearly. Why are they all listening to him anyway? He barely has a clue of what’s happening here, but they’re all willing to listen to his hackneyed plan?

Too late now.

Through one eye, he watches as Dr Deaton lowers the glacies-pugione into Benny’s mouth and forces his jaw shut. The whole room seems to hold their breath.

One minute ticks by.

Two.

Three.

Five.

Nothing happens until…

A plume of blue smoke bellows out of Benny’s mouth and he opens his eyes. The first person he sees is Liam, who’s not at all embarrassed to still be holding the other boy’s hand.

“You’re okay.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to Benny’s damp one and Mason turns around to give them a semblance of privacy. He doesn’t know what’s going on with them two, doesn’t think _they_ know either, but knows he wouldn’t want anyone catching him in such an intimate position.

When they break apart and Benny sits up, Mason finally feels brave enough to ask.

“Okay, what the hell?

**///**

They’re all pretty wiped after the night’s events, and debriefing Mason on the whole situation really depleted all their stores so they crash at Scott’s for the night. Allison is none-too-happy when she finds out what happened and hasn’t let Benny out of her sight since she got there. Benny seems torn between his anger at her and the desire to have family close by, but it seems family is winning out.

For now.

“I wish I could go back in time.” Allison notes when Benny drops off, carding her fingers through his hair.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Scott agrees, handing her a cup of cocoa. She takes it gratefully, wrapping her fingers around the cup, savouring the heat. Benny’s still freezing even under three blankets and his cheek is like a brick of ice against her thigh. She doesn’t shrug him off though, glad for the reminder that he’s still alive. Deaton says he’ll be cold for a while still, as the antidote works its way through his system, but she’ll take walking refrigerator over freezing corpse any day.

“Can you imagine how it would have been if we met as regular old Scott and Allison?” She asks, knowing it’s never good to dwell on could’ve but not caring at all.

“You still would have been adopted into Lydia’s Clique, and I’d have been that bench-warming lacrosse player she’d warn you against. Maybe we still would have ended up together, but without werewolf hearing, I would never had known you needed a pen in the first place.”

“I still might’ve asked you if you could spare one.” She disagrees, gentling her strokes as Benny stirs.

“Maybe. I would have been horrible at bowling though. Not even your _very_ enticing incentive would have helped much.”

“I would have found it endearing that you’d lie just to impress me.”

He grins and they both laugh, knowing that whatever they had is gone now and moving on is hard, but never letting go is worse.

Still, it’s nice to imagine What If…

**///**

The thing about glacies-pugione, Benny’s learning, is that it works slowly. According to Deaton, Dragonfyre is a poison that feeds on magical energy, and the more magical energy a person has, the more work the antidote has to do. Apparently, Benny has more magic than he realised, because it’s been three days and he’s still so goddamn cold. In the three days, a lot has happened – the deadpool has been stopped, Liam and Mason have had a Talk, and Malia and Stiles have apparently made up. This is, for Benny, at least, the most notable thing. He still doesn’t feel like talking to Allison right now, still feels the sting of her betrayal like a telenovela slap to the face and still isn’t ready to forgive just yet. He doesn’t know how he feels about all of it, doesn’t understand why she didn’t tell him.

There’s a knock on his window and he jumps, so deep in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed. It’s Malia, ironically, and she looks half a second away from punching the window in so he rushes to open it.

“Hey.” He greets, tugging his hoodie tighter against himself as the draft gets in. It’s not cold enough to justify a hoodie, but the glacies-pugione is a bitch, and everything feels like sub-zero right now.

“Why aren’t you talking to Allison yet?” It’s both refreshing and terrifying how quickly Malia gets to her point sometimes.

Benny shrugs, not knowing that answer either. 

“You’re pissed, right? That’s what it all boils down to. You’re pissed because she did something stupid, which, apparently, is a thing smart people sometimes do. Maybe she thought she had to protect you, maybe they thought they had to protect us.” She sinks down onto the bed, an expression on her face that’s a little sappy.

“I didn’t ask her to do that. I didn’t ask her to _lie_.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’ve been there.”

He has to explain it to _someone_ though – so he does.

“I just, I don’t know what to say to her anymore. For 15 years, it’s been me and Grams. Ethan was the closest thing I had to a brother, but sometimes I’d watch him and Jane and I’d feel like a total stranger. And then suddenly these two people come into my life and they’re like the pieces of me that never fit anywhere else. Then they lied to me, and now the pieces don’t fit right anymore. I get that my mom’s a complete pyscho-bitch, but I’ve never had one before, never had that connection with someone and they kept me from her. They had reasons, _good_ reasons even, but the cut runs deep, you know.”

Malia nods. “I don’t even really care that she’s alive, I mean it’s pretty obvious she wants absolutely nothing to do with me, but the fact that they lied about it, that’s worse than anything she could ever do.”

“I think this is something you should probably talk to Allison about.” Malia notes knowledgably, and Benny sighs.

“I think he just did.” Of course Allison would be standing there right now.

He honestly doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would – it actually feels like a huge weight’s been lifted to know that he doesn’t have to get this off his chest a second time. He goes to thank Malia for listening, but she’s already vaulting out the window, her job apparently done.

He laughs awkwardly and Allison does the same, both unsure where they stand. Benny shivers again and Allison extends an olive branch in the form of a warm mug of cocoa. He takes it gratefully; clinging to the heat like it’s a lifeline,

“So…” Allison starts, apparently unsure how to start either.

“So…”

“You’re not gonna make this easy are you?”

“Nope.”

“We had our reasons.” Allison tries out weakly. 

“Sing me a new song.” Is Benny’s blistering response to that one.

“You don’t know her like we do.”

Benny just raises an eyebrow, but it’s ruined by a full body shiver that nearly divests him of his cocoa.

“Right, okay, what do you want me to _say_?!”

“You could try sorry.”

Allison smiles. It’s not forgiveness, but it’s a start.


	12. Chapter 12

Adrenaline surges through Benny’s veins like a familiar song. His hands are steady. Every muscle in his body is taut in anticipation. Next to him, Liam is tensed and ready for anything. Benny elbows him gently to let him know his position, and Liam relaxes. They’re waiting.

Patience. Patience is not something either of them is good at, but they’re trying. People are counting on them – they’re needed here. Liam’s knee starts to bob and Benny gives a sharp shake of his head. They could be watching. Never let them know you’re nervous.

There.

Benny aims.

*

The controller in Mason’s hand buzzes as he takes a critical hit. His avatar dies gruesomely, blood gushing from his left eye in vividly graphic animation.

Game over flashes on the screen and Benny and Liam bump the sides of their fists together.

Mason grumbles, and in his little window box, Ethan looks dejected.

“I thought you said you were good at this game!” He whines, putting his controller down.

“I thought I _was_.” Mason replies, burying his face in his hands. “These two are insane. Or at least Benny is. Liam’s a big fat cheat.”

Now that Mason Knows, things are _weird_ , but simpler. Mason, understandably, has a _lot_ of questions. They’re trying their best to answer all of them, but it’s a lot to unload. When they’re not giving him the Cliff Notes Version of Beacon Hills’ Depraved Underside, they’re trying to remember what it’s like to be normal teenagers again. And that involves pizza and many rounds of Mortal Kombat apparently. Benny’s not complaining, of course – he does love it.

“Why, because he’s a werewolf?” Ethan asks around a yawn.

“Yep. I’ve played this guy before, and he was nowhere near this good.”

Liam shrinks at the attention, and Benny tosses a pillow at Mason. “He’s just jealous dude. We’ve beaten them pretty soundly five times now, and he’s just being a little bitch.”

Mason rolls his eyes.

Liam’s stepdad knocks on the door lightly, looking none too pleased to see them all still up. 

“We were taking a break, Mr D.” Benny lies unconvincingly. Mr Dunbar just _looks_ at them.

“My shift starts soon and I was wondering if you boys need a ride.”

Liam looks utterly distraught at those words and Benny’s not feeling too great with the suggestion either. Things at home are still awkward and he and his uncle have reached nuclear levels of silence over the whole Kate thing, and it’s not a great place to be is what Benny’s saying.

“Uh, if it’s alright with you, Dr D, can I crash here tonight? It’s already pretty late.” He goes for his most disarming smile, which worked with librarians back in Canada, but not many others. Dr Dunbar is not impressed, but one look at his son’s hopeful face and he sighs.

“Bed by twelve, console off right now, and studying until lights out. My wife will be in to check on you so don’t think I won’t know if you didn’t obey my orders.”

They both nod in sync and Mason gets up. “I’d like that ride, sir. My mom wants me home anyway.”

After seeing Mason off and disconnecting with Ethan, the boys get to studying. It’s the most boring thing they’ve ever done since meeting each other, but Benny knows, even if Liam isn’t saying anything, that it’s better than sleeping.

“It’s the Berserkers isn’t it?” Benny says when the words in his textbook start to blur together.

Liam’s shoulders tense but he doesn’t say anything, apparently really into the rise of the speakeasy.

“Liam.” He urges, shutting his textbook and moving closer to the boy.

“It’s stupid. It’s so stupid, Ben. It’s like they’re everywhere.”

Benny puts his hand on Liam’s shoulder and sends soothing magic into his subconscious. It’s not enough to rid him of his demons, but enough to calm him down.

“I can’t get the rattle of bones out of my head. Sometimes it gets so loud that it’s all I hear. Sometimes, God, sometimes I can’t even look at _you_.”

It hurts deep in his soul to hear Liam say that, hurts like a hot poker through the eye, but he gets it. That’s his mom’s playthings – her loyal pets. That’s the thought that follows Benny to sleep sometimes, that the blood of someone so ruthless, so _monstrous_ runs through his veins. Sometimes he wonders if that monster hides in him.

But.

Right now, Liam needs him. Liam, who is his friend, Liam who he knows better than he knows her, Liam who is real and solid. Liam who is his.

“Hey.” He says, tugging Liam’s face upwards, forcing their eyes to meet. “We’re in this together. I. Got. You.” He lifts two fingers to his eyes and moves them towards Liam’s own pair and back to his, letting him know he’s got his back.

“Okay.”

*

Benny wakes up with Liam’s foot in his face and the smell of pancakes wafting through the door. He somehow manages to unlearn everything he’s ever been taught about being graceful as he falls off the bed.

Pancakes are worth looking like a fool for.

Liam groans and buries his face further in his pillow.

“The hell’s your problem, Weir?” he says, words muffled around the fabric covering his mouth.

“Pancakes, dude.” He says, already halfway out the door. Liam rolls his eyes and tries to recapture his sleep.

Half an hour and two servings of pancakes later, Liam stumbles down the stairs, bleary-eyed and hungry.

His mother snorts and ruffles his hair, sliding a plate of pancakes over to her son.

“Eat up, champ, you’ve got some catching up to do.’

Liam acknowledges that by thrusting his fork into his ‘cake and eating it whole. It’s both disgusting and riveting to behold.

“That reminds me of my partying days.” His mom says, before seeming to remember her audience and clamming up.

“Aww, c’mon, Mrs D, you can’t go for a set-up like that and not tell us the rest.” Benny goads, dragging his last pancake through a vat of leftover syrup.

“I think I can, Mr W.” She proclaims as she sets some more pancakes on the table.

“You’re _diabolical._ ” Benny riffs, and Mrs Dunbar laughs as she bats his nose lightly with a spoon. “Now eat up and get to school. You have an extra set of clothes, right?”

 _‘If a spell for fresh clean clothes counts, then absolutely_ ,’ Benny doesn’t say, just nods when she looks at him.

“Great. I have court all day, so I probably won’t be home when you get here.” She informs her son. He just nods, still working on his second pancake.

Dumping everything in the sink for later, Liam’s mom walks out.

“Clean that up when you get home, ‘kay, love you, bye.” Liam nearly chokes on his pancake and Benny snorts.

When he no longer hears the car’s engine, Benny gestures with his head and all the dishes start washing themselves up and putting themselves away.

“That’s handy.” Liam notes with a grin, knocking Benny’s fist when he’s done.

“You know it. Drives my uncle crazy, but Ally cracks up every time.”

They finish the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence and head on out to school.

**///**

They say it’s over. They say the deadpool’s done so they’re done. _Let your guard down, Ally, it’s over_. She knows she should be relieved, knows her friends, her _cousin_ is safe, but something about that doesn’t ring true. There are still too many loose ends, too many spinning plates. There’s still Peter _._ There’s still _Kate_. Allison’s not dumb enough to believe that that’s _it_. This is Beacon Hills – it can’t be that simple.

Malia is excitedly showing off her C- to Lydia, who seems as distracted as Allison feels, which makes her happy to not be the only one paranoid.

Coach walks by with their graded papers, and Allison winces at the big fat F on Malia’s. Harsh.

“I’ll send you my notes, Lydia promises, before she starts to space out on the board.

NETWORTH AT TIME OF DEATH  
ADJUSTED FOR INFLATION

JOHN D ROCKEFELLER: 318 BILLION  
CORNELIUS VANDERBILT: 150 BILLION  
HENRY FORD: 188 BILLION

It reads like a deadpool. Allison shivers, suddenly uncomfortable.

‘It’s over.” Kira says, leaning over her desk. Allison wishes she could believe that so easily. “The computers are off. No more assassins, no more murderers – no one’s dying.” If only it could be that simple.

If there was any part of Allison that is hopeful of Kira’s optimistic proclamation, Lydia’s next words crushes that.

“Not yet.”

_Well._

**///**

Both Benny and Mason watch as Liam loads another weight onto his bar, in complete awe at his ability.

“That’s a lot of weight.” Mason notes, raising an eyebrow.

“I gotta get ready for the game tomorrow.”

“Do you need a spot?”

“No.” Liam says, sounding incredulous at the offer. “Do you?” he’s speaking of course of the 2 pound weights in Mason’s hands.

Mason’s face is one of pure disdain while Benny chokes on his laughter.

Offended, Mason replies with “This is my warm-up.”

“ _Right._ ”

Mason glares and flips Benny off.

Benny just goes back to his own weights.

“You’re both assholes.” Mason says, going behind Liam to spot him. Liam snaps that he doesn’t need one and proves it.

Mason rolls his eyes and takes off and Benny looks at Liam. He’s in a pre-full-moon douchebag mood though and says nothing.

“Dude, uncool.” Benny remarks, before taking off after Mason.

“Mace! Mace, buddy. Look, you’re new to _all_ of this, and I get wanting to punch him in the throat just a little, but he’s not himself right now. It’s almost the full moon and – “

Whatever explanation he’s about to give is interrupted when Scott flies past them in a dead sprint.

They rush to follow, only to find Liam trapped under his weights, gasping for breath. Scott makes quick work of the bar and makes sure Liam is okay.

Highly doubtful, but hopefully Liam’s learnt something now. Hopefully, it’s that he’s not an island, and he doesn’t have to do this alone.

*

It’s later that night, Liam’s mom and dad are still at their respective jobs and they’re all gathered in Liam’s room. It’s pretty quiet, with everyone working through their issues on their own, when Mason suddenly gets up.

“I know you’re not telling me everything.” He starts, point blank, and Benny gets up from his supine position on the bed. Mason doesn’t look like he’s done so Benny doesn’t say anything, just letting him get it off his chest.

“… _But_ you’re still my best friends.”

(Hearing Mason describe him like that makes Benny heart sing, because he feels the same way. Ethan will always be his #1, but that’s different, because Ethan’s Ethan, and this is his new reality now, and these are his new friends.)

“And considering the fact that the last good friend I made turned out to be a professional killer, I’m thinking that I don’t have too many options for new ones. So, uh, when you’re ready to talk, talk. Until then, I know I can kick your asses at at least one of these games.” It’s a massive olive branch, Benny knows and he’s not entirely convinced they deserve it, but Liam grabs a videogame from his bed, still unopened and says: “I’ve never played this one.”

For now, it looks like they’re gonna be okay.

And then Benny’s phone rings and it’s Allison.

“Dad’s missing.” And just like that, everything goes to shit.

**///**

Allison hates this. Everything is wrong. She _knew_ it wasn’t over. In her gut, she knew. This is just perfect. Her dad’s God knows where, Scott’s not answering his phone and every instinct she has is telling her to run. This is like the nogitsune all over again, only worse because she doesn’t have her dad to talk her down this time. Her life is complete insanity, (0 stars, would not recommend,) and she’s at the end of her rope right now. She takes a deep breath and forces herself to relax and reminds herself that she’s not a fragile girl that needs her daddy’s protection. She’s a strong, independent badass. She knows how to shoot a bow and arrow and how to kill a kanima. She’s fierce. Her hands stop shaking as she goes through her mental checklist, and her vision clears.

Argent women lead men into war. Argent women do not wait to be rescued. She is an Argent woman and it’s time she remembered that.

By the time Benny crashes through the door, she’s fully in control again, head clear and armed with a Plan.

“Allison, what the hell is going on right now?” Benny asks, nerves clearly frayed and close to snapping. She hands him a block of silver.

He looks from it back to her, the expression on his face a clear ‘What the Fuck?’

“It’s time for you to graduate.”

///*///

 _Allison’s fiddling with a rifle, trying to fill the time while everyone is scrambling around trying to do the same. This whole thing is a nightmare. Everything is wrong. Some days she wished she never came here. Most days she’s glad she did. She’s unravelling, she knows, but the waiting_ _is driving her insane. This isn’t what she’s supposed to be doing. This isn’t helping anyone. This isn’t helping Lydia. This isn’t helping Scott. This isn’t helping Stiles and it’s so stupid. She wants to hit something, go for a run, burn off the excess energy, but she can’t. She can’t do anything and that’s killing her._

_“I had a feeling you might be down here.” Her dad’s voice has always had that magical quality to calm her down, but not this time._

_“I need to do something. I hate waiting.” She sighs, twisting a vision scope into place, but it doesn’t seem to want to. Another thing that she can’t control. “Feeling useless.”_

_“Where’s Isaac?”_

_“He’s trying to help Scott.”_

_“Trying to be useful?” Allison nods, struggling with the screwdriver and knowing that something’s probably gonna break, but not actually caring._

_Her dad’s hand closes around hers and she takes a deep breath, putting herself back in the present, trying to find her centre._

_“Leave it for now, huh? I have… something else you can do.” He says as he bends down to the safe. “Something we should have done a while ago.”_

_He pulls out a gun case and sets it down next to her. Only, it’s not a gun inside. Six blocks of silver with the Argent crest emblazoned on it and he hands one to her._

_“It’s time for you to graduate.”_

_///*///_

She remembers the craziness after that, remembers all too well the pain she went through, remembers lying in Scott’s arms thinking this is it. Only it wasn’t and she’s here, and she’s alive, and she has an amazing cousin who she loves more than she thought she would when they first met, and this thing, it’s not over. Not yet.

She shows Benny how to melt the silver down and hands him one of her arrowhead moulds. She knows Benny’s getting proficient with that crossbow, knows he prefers the whisper of the wind as the arrow flies, rather than the crack of a gunshot. She knows he prefers the elegance of his weapon rather than the savagery of the gun. She knows because she does too.

“I love you, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of us.” She whispers as she gets her own arrows ready. She’s preparing for a final stand. This shit ends now.

*

She phones Parrish in the end, because he’s young and he Knows, and it’s easier this way. The sheriff already has his plate full with everything else going on, and she’s not gonna involve him more than necessary. She leaves Benny to his arrows and tries to get into a battle ready mind-set.. She’s gonna see her aunt again. She might have to hold an arrow to her head again. She’s going to be forced to do that in front of Benny, because there’s no way the kid’s gonna stay behind. There’s a lot about to go down and she has to be ready. It won’t be easy, it never is, but she has to do this.

She tests the points on her arrows, makes sure they’re sharp and waits for Parrish to get here so she can get her dad.

*

Her dad’s very much not okay when they find him, trapped against the wall with a _fucking steel rod_ holding him in place. She freezes when she sees this, legs not cooperating with her brain’s directions. _Move Allison, move._   
When Parrish notices her paralysis, he takes a few steps closer to Chris and looks him in the eye.

“You doing good?” He says, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“Great.” Chris replies, but there’s blood in his smile and Allison’s heart plunges. She clenches her fists to stop them shaking and makes her feet go forward.   
She touches his shoulder so he can have that connection and looks into his eyes. They’re glazed over with the pain he has to be feeling, but there’s still fight in those orbs.   
He brings his hand up to hers and squeezes.

Sometimes they don’t need words.

“How long have you been like this?” Parrish asks suddenly, breaking into their moment and bringing them back to reality.

Right, her dad’s bleeding out. She needs to focus.

“I don’t know, I blacked out a few times.” Hearing that makes Allison’s blood boil, makes her fingers constrict against her bow, makes her resolve stronger. She’s going to kill Peter Hale. She misses the next part of the dialogue as she plots his demise, but she sees the determination in the set of Jordan’s jaw and kinda loves him for it.

“We’re getting you out of here.”

Chris looks to his daughter with the vague hope that she’ll try to persuade the stubborn cop to listen to him, but no dice on that one.

She just tilts her head in an ‘are you stupid’ kind of way and nods at Parrish to continue.

*

Her dad’s hurting bad, she can tell, and the rod is not giving in. It won’t bend back, and there’s no give. Having to listen to her dad’s anguished wails as Jordan tries again is enough to make her want to turn tail and run. But she can’t do that. She won’t. She’s not gonna let her dad do this on his own.

He wants to give up, she knows, but she’s not going to let him.

It’s probably torturous for him, but she can’t have him throw in the towel now.

She grabs his face in both her hands, the way she did when she was little and gives him her purest smile – the kind she used to use to get things her mom already said no to – and looks him directly in the eye.

“What’s our Code?” She asks.

“Allison, I don’t think this is the time.” Parrish says, touching her shoulder.

She ignores him, hands still on her father’s face, and asks again.

“What’s our code?”

Her dad looks tired and he gazes down, but she lifts his head up.

“Say it with me.” She whispers, pressing her forehead against his.

“Nous protégons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-měmes.”

“Again.” She instructs as her hands leave his face and goes to his blood-soaked hands.

She nods at Parrish who goes for the rod once more.

He repeats the Code and grips the bar, pushing with all his might. He thinks of all the people in his life, gone or otherwise, and his voice gets stronger.

Victoria, his strong, beautiful wife.

Gerard.

Kate.

Benny.

Allison. 

Her hands never leave his, like chains rooting him to this earth. His little girl, his little girl who he’s watched grow into this phenomenal woman, this beautiful, headstrong spitfire, who’s so much like her mother it hurts sometimes – his angel, Allison.

And then Jordan’s eyes are burning and the bar is moving, and he’s falling, and she’s right there.

“I’ve got you, dad.” She says, and he knows she means more than just now,

He places a bloody hand on her cheek and his head against her forehead. “I’ve got you too, angel.” 

** CHAPTER TEN **


	13. Chapter 13

When they get back to the apartment, Benny has a few arrowheads on the table and is in the middle of attaching one to a shaft when he sees his uncle. He drops both immediately and runs towards them, putting an arm under the man’s shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” He queries as he helps Chris to the couch.

“Long story. Later.” Allison says succinctly, turning to the cupboard where he knows the first aid kit is.

He does what he can for his uncle, siphoning as much of his pain as he can stand. Parrish jumps when he takes in Benny’s veins, seemingly startled.

“Oh, right, you’re new.” Benny says simply, but doesn’t elaborate as Allison comes over with the first aid.

“We should take him to the hospital.” Parrish exclaims and Allison’s rolls her eyes. Apparently they’ve been having this conversation for a while.

“There’s no time.” Chris explains, struggling to sit up. Benny bats him down easily, using a little restraining magic to make sure he stays down.

“Benny.” Chris growls, but Benny doesn’t allow himself to be swayed.

“No.”

Allison works swiftly, cleaning and dressing him efficiently, with Parrish offering up his own medical advice now and again. When they’re done, Allison goes into her room to change out of her bloody clothes and tosses a bundle of clean ones at her dad’s head. It would seem that she’s not entirely pleased with her dad’s decision to avoid the hospital.

Benny goes back to his weapons and with a wave of his hand, all the arrows are ready.

Parrish looked awed.

“Cool trick.” Is all he thinks to say, before checking one last time on their patient.

“Yeah.”

Allison comes back in, sliding her quiver over her shoulder and looking ready to face Hell. “Let’s go.”

*

Liam ends up texting Benny, letting him know that he plans to go to Mexico, and Benny has to be there with him. Benny can’t explain why he feels this way, like there’s an itch under his skin where Liam’s involved. There’s this intense desire to protect the kid, which seems weird, considering Liam’s three months older than him, but he doesn’t know how else to describe it. Whatever it is has him going over to Stiles’ house to try to… he doesn’t even know what.

He gets there and Liam is in the living room, evidently waiting on someone. Stiles comes running down the stairs with Scott’s pillowcase and upon seeing them both, sighs.

“Ugh, Liam, go home you’re not coming with us. Benny, how did you even get in here?” The expression of his face says that Stiles probably doesn’t wanna know, and he decides it’s probably right.

“Why not?” Liam wants to know. “Cause it’s a full moon and I don’t feel like driving all the way down to Mexico just to have you rip my throat out.” Liam makes a suggestion that Benny’s not entirely comfortable with and Stiles quickly vetoes that one.

“We’d have to freeze you in carbonite just to get you down there.” Benny smirks at that. His smirk instantly drops at Liam’s next words.

“Okay, then where do we get carbonite?” Stiles face is every level of done there is, and it’s exactly how Benny feels.

“Seriously, you haven’t seen it either?” He looks at Benny speculatively then, seemingly judging him. “You’ve seen it, right?”

Benny almost wants to say no just to see what Stiles face will do next, but decides against it and gives him a ‘duh’ expression instead. “

Oh thank God. I love this kid.” He wraps an arm around Benny’s shoulders and plants a kiss on his cheek, apparently really happy not to be alone in this. Benny decides to just move past that.

Liam pleads with Stiles some more, and Benny has to admire the kid’s drive. He’s determined to be there, determined to fight despite the fact that he’s scared and Benny feels oddly proud.

There’s a burning under his skin that he ignores though as Stiles seems to work the problem out in his head.

*

His solution to the full moon thing, it would seem, is a prison transport van. Benny has issues with that for very many reasons, but they’re on a tight schedule right now, so there’s no time for the Ps and Qs. The woman driving the van, apparently a US Marshal, takes a long look at him, making him tense up.

“Wanna take a picture?” He snarls out to avoid stepping back.

“Benny Weir. I came across you in Kate’s files, didn’t think you were real.”

Before Benny can think of a reply (what would he even say to that?), Derek’s car pulls up and he and his crazy uncle walk up to them. After assuring everyone that whoever’s here is supposed to be, Peter exposits on what Kate’s planning to do. It doesn’t sound good. It sounds pretty screwed up actually and every word is like poison in Benny’s ears.

That woman’s his mother.

Allison comes up behind him and nudges him with her elbow, reminding him that they’re not all bad. They’re not all Kate... It helps a little.

With that out of the way, they try to head out – at least until Stiles points out that Lydia’s not with them. Stiles doesn’t want to leave without her, that much is obvious, but Scott’s his brother in all but blood, so he allows Liam to call Mason and they set off.

Benny heads to the same vehicle that Stiles, Derek and Liam are going in, but Stiles stops him. “Where are you going, Little Argent? Stick with Allison.”

Benny bumps him out of the way and gets in the van. “Nope.”

“Kid, we don’t have time for this. I have enough to worry about and I don’t need one more thing!”

Benny gives a subtle signal to Liam to let him know he’s kidding and pulls out a perfectly sharpened arrow from his quiver. “I can handle myself.”

Derek tries to hide a laugh as a cough, fails miserably, then laughs outright. Stiles lets out an impressive full-body sigh and climbs up into the van, shutting the door behind him. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

///

Allison’s in the car with Peter and Malia at Stiles’ behest and it’s more than a little awkward. Distrust is weaved into the upholstery. No one says anything.

Malia puts the radio on, turns the volume up and turns to Allison. “This is gonna be ugly, isn’t it?” Allison can only nod, tapping a tattoo into her knee. There’s so many unknowns going into this thing and she doesn’t like it. There’s a sick feeling in her stomach, like something’s gonna go wrong, but that’s a given so she ignores that.

She forces herself to listen to the music, pretending that this is just a road-trip to Mexico and that everything is fine. It doesn’t last though – it can’t. There is no getting away from this. Not with Peter in the car.

She has the distinct feeling that he could probably make something even as jovial as a birthday party feel incredibly creepy. (Probably.) She doesn’t trust him, doesn’t see how anyone can, but they need all the hands they can get and can’t afford to be picky. The music is louder than she’s comfortable with, but if it’s between that and listening to Peter talk, she’d gladly turn it louder.

Peter is apparently a mind-reader, because he turns the dial lower and monologues. He speaks about Kate and her berserkers and Allison finds herself wondering if Benny can handle it, if he can actually stomach the idea that this could possibly end with a bullet between his own mother’s eyes.

She knows that she didn’t handle it too well when her mom… when her mom… so she worries. It’s easier to worry than to think, easier not to think.

She actually knows Kate, loved Kate, buried Kate, and doesn’t know if she can do it again.

Malia and Peter are still talking, maybe forgetting that she’s even here, which she’s fine with. Peter’s being dysfunctional again, dispensing fatherly advice, which boils down to kill and unleash the beast, which Allison does not actually agree with.

“Don’t listen to him.” Allison exclaims, putting a hand on Malia’s shoulder, reminding her that she’s not alone.

“He’s wrong.”

“You don’t think we’ll have to kill a few berserkers to come out of there alive?” Peter drawls, turning lazily to look at her. “Tell me sweetheart, what fairytale are you getting that from?”

She glares at him, but focusses back on Malia. “You’re not him, Malia.” Malia looks at her, and bathed in the moonlight’s glow, looks so terribly young, and Allison remembers that this is a girl who spent years of her life as a coyote and is still a child really and grabs her hands.

“You don’t have to be like him.”

Peter does not look happy with those words but Allison doesn’t care, having only eyes for Malia. Malia nods, takes a deep breath and seems to calm down. It’s not much, but at this point, she’ll take anything. She wonders if Benny’s doing any better.

///

Benny doesn’t think those handcuffs are going to be strong enough for Liam. He knows they’re tough for humans to snap, but he thinks it’ll be a snap for werewolves. He doesn’t say this, obviously, as Liam looks pretty wired as is, but privately, he thinks so.

The trinket Derek gave is a dud, a placebo to placate the terrified beta, but it won’t work. He looks over at Derek, who he knows will be okay, and Stiles who is an idiot. Liam could rip his throat out easily if he wanted to and Stiles wouldn’t be able to protect himself like Benny, or heal (maybe), like Derek.

“What?” Stiles asks when he catches Benny staring, and Benny shrugs, looking away. Liam twitches on the bench opposite them and Benny reflexively grabs an arrow. He keeps it within easy reach if he needs it, but Liam calms down a second later. It doesn’t last long though, as Liam jerks forward again, stopped only by the cuffs tying him to the bench.

“This is it.” Benny whispers to himself, but in a space this confined, everyone hears him.

Sweat collects on Liam’s forehead and his breathing is laboured, and the fancy trinket is produced again.

Derek’s method, however, proves ineffective and Liam doesn’t respond like either he or Stiles hoped. Stiles tries Satomi’s mantra, and it almost seems to pacify Liam, but only for so long. Liam growls and bares his teeth at them, dangerously close to Stiles’ face and something clicks. Like in the well, when they were trapped there – when Liam howled, something happened, something changed. Something brought them together – more than just a life-or-death situation.

Benny stands up and gets between Stiles and Liam, pushing the former back to his seat. “What are you…” Stiles starts to ask, but Benny blocks that out, his eyes completely on Liam. He feels Derek get up beside him, probably trying to intervene, but with a wave of his hand, he traps both of them on their seats. Liam’s eyes are wild, glowing yellow and flickering back and forth between the two people behind him.

“Eyes on me, buddy.” He whispers, getting in the wolf’s personal space. He doesn’t like that, snapping his teeth to indicate his displeasure.

Benny doesn’t let his fear show, placing his hands on Liam’s shoulders. Liam growls low in his throat, but Benny’s hands are steady, and he’s completely calm.

“You know me, remember?” He queries, looking into the kid’s eyes.

He takes one hand from Liam’s shoulder and places it on his chest. “Benny.” He then brings it down onto Liam’s own, above his heart. “Liam.”

Liam’s snarls decrease, but do not fade away. Benny does not let that rattle him. He takes his hand back and brings two fingers to his eyes. That seems to register with Liam and he tilts his head, attentive. Benny brings those two fingers to Liam’s eyes and back to his. I got you.

Liam’s hands come up and mirror his movements, and the savagery in those orbs seems to subside. Benny sinks back down, and only realizes now that his own eyes are glowing. He can’t believe that worked.

“Dude!” Stiles congratulates him with a slap on his back. “You’re his anchor.”

In the back of his mind, he wants to ask what Stiles means, but doesn’t, because Braeden turns around then to check that they’re still good. Derek nods and replies in the affirmative.

Most of his focus though, is on Liam, who looks both thankful and relieved. Benny gives a tiny nod which Liam mirrors, and that’s that. There’s little fanfare after that, and they pull up to the site easily.

Benny tenses and grits his teeth against the wave of dark magic that passes over him. This place is teeming with it, dark magic not unlike his own.

Liam looks at him cautiously, but he waves the concern away, not allowing himself to be distracted by it. They’re on a mission now, and he’s stronger than that. He’s come a long way from that incident with the Lucifractor and now’s his time to prove it.

He squares his shoulders and looks straight ahead, game face on and ready. They crack a few jokes to rid themselves of nerves and Benny finds himself agreeing with Stiles’ cautious optimism until their welcoming committee comes in the form of a berserker jerking Derek out of the van and being generally unwelcoming.

It has Derek pinned to a rock and it’s punching and punching and there’s an undeniable squelching sound that Benny doesn’t like – and then Braeden’s there with her shotgun, and there’s a reason Benny likes the bow and arrow, okay, but it works and the thing takes off, and she rushes to Derek’s side.

He’s bleeding, Benny can tell that much, and it doesn’t look like it’s healing (which is just another thing he can attribute to his mother), but he’s saying he’s okay.

Benny doesn’t need werewolf hearing to know that that’s complete and total bullshit, but he allows it, allows Derek to protect them from this, allows the fallacy just this once, because he can’t watch another person he cares about die.

He takes off with the others to respect Derek’s last wish, sees, in his peripheral, Stiles’ hesitation, but doesn’t comment on it, only going further into La Iglesia. The dark magic is magnified inside the church walls, emanating from seemingly everywhere and nowhere simultaneously.

He can feel the darkness inside of him want, but he presses down on it, refusing to let it surface. He will never again allow himself to be that easily led. He won’t allow himself to set his abilities on his friends again.

Liam’s beside him suddenly, looking at him sceptically, seeming to gauge his reactions closely. “You okay man?” He whispers, trying not to bring anyone’s attention onto them, which Benny is thankful for. Benny nods sharply, not yet trusting himself to speak. Liam seems dubious, but doesn’t push, apparently willing to go along for now.

Benny locks his emotions down and mutters a shielding spell to ward off the dark tendrils wrapping themselves around his thoughts.

Child, it whispers, voice at once a cold breath and a warm touch. La Loba’s offspring. The son, the son. The voices – Benny can’t tell if it’s one or two – sound ecstatic at this proclamation, but he can’t afford to be distracted, so he strengthens his attack, happy when the voices seem to shriek and back off. Their chilling call of the son still follows him though, but he chooses to ignore that. Now’s not the time. It’s not the time to take a phone-call either, but that’s what Stiles does, and probably for the first time and hopefully never again, Benny and Peter are on the same page. For some reason, they wait for Stiles to finish his call (it’s his dad, and Benny wishes he could talk to Ethan right now,) before they continue on. The voices are back, following him and inciting their poisonous truth. He bites down harder and endures; because Scott and Kira are somewhere in here, and he’s not gonna let them down. His distraction almost costs him, but Malia’s quick reflexes save him from an early grave as berserkers accost them at all sides. They’re quickly put on the defensive, running away which Benny’s okay with. Then Malia’s tossing Kira’s katana at Stiles and instructing him to find her and Scott, and Benny’s torn between wanting to go with as protection, or staying here and fighting. Liam’s not budging, (Liam, whose boggart would probably be these things,) and Benny’s choice is made for him. Fight. /// Mason likes to think he’s open-minded. He’s part of a community that’s been fighting for that exact thing, and, as such, doesn’t think being close-minded is a good look on anyone, but he digresses. He likes to think that he’s the kind of guy that would be game for anything. He likes to think that. Now he’s thinking that that might be a lie. His best friends are a werewolf and a mage, which he still has a crap-ton of questions about, and now this. He’s not even sure what this is about. He’s not sure about anything anymore. (For all he knows, there really is a jolly fat guy in a red suit that delivers presents on Christmas Eve.) All he knows for sure is that Liam called him, sounding frazzled and asked him to look for Lydia, who he last spoke to at her party. The only thing he knows about her is that she knows Liam and that she’s having monetary problems. It would seem that she’s also in on this supernatural side of things. His head hurts like a bitch since some weird-ass looking thing took him out and he has to make Lydia aware of its existence, if she doesn’t already know. She does, and hearing her say ‘it’ instead of ‘him’ confirms that they’re not dealing with normal here. Her cryptic uttering of “I think that’s the point” to his discovery of his phone being missing does nothing to calm him down at all. The thing growls and Mason stands up cautiously, every hair standing on end. This is so not how he planned the back half of his freshman year to go. “What is that thing?” He finds himself asking, if only to drown out the inhuman growling. “Not human.” Lydia answers, which is so unhelpful. * “So, banshee huh?” Mason gets out, back pressed against the wall while they plot their escape. “Banshee,” Lydia confirms. So, you’re absolutely sure someone’s gonna die?” Mason asks as his mind completely blanks on a subject change. “Yep.” Lydia says, popping the p. “Huh. Didn’t think when I woke up this morning that this is how my day would go.” Lydia nods, echoing his sentiment. “We have to at least see if he’s blocking the exit.” Lydia says, referring to their only route of escape, and Mason doesn’t like their chances. Still, he takes a few deep breaths and goes to verify it. The thing steps into view and Mason quickly steps out. “Yeah, he’s blocking it.” /// They’re still fighting, trying to win, but it’s pointless, Allison knows. These things aren’t human, which she is, and her friends may be less human than she is, but even they’re tiring, even they’re struggling. This isn’t a fair fight, never was, but that’s how it’s always been. She wants to go home, throw in the towel and let someone else deal with this, but knows that’s a sucker’s wish, knows there is no one else. They’re the guardians of this town and this is their job. She’s running low on ammo, energy and time, but that’s never stopped her before. Watching Benny get swatted to the floor like a feather strengthens her resolve and she goes back in. Outside, she picks up on the sound of gunfire she recognises as Braeden’s weapon of choice, and it’s joined by a much more welcome one soon enough. She looks to Benny, getting up from his crumpled position on the floor and knows he hears it too. The cavalry has arrived. /// Lydia’s choice of defence seems lacking in Mason’s opinion. He lets her know that. “A baseball bat? Against that guy –thing – whatever-it-is?” He asks, just to reaffirm the craziness his life has turned into. Lydia’s having none of that and is quick to remind him, clearly, what’s at stake. “My friends are in trouble, and so is Liam, your best friend. They need me and I’m going for it.” She chokes the bat and storms off and he can’t be sure, but he thinks she says “And yes to the baseball bat.” As she goes. He looks at her, this tiny pixie of a person and admires her resolve, grabbing his own bat and charging on after her, passing her as he goes. It’s all for naught actually, as their bats are pretty ineffective against the thing, and they’re pretty lucky the sheriff shows up when he does, because they’d be very dead if he hadn’t. The thing explodes and instead of the ichor he’s expecting, it’s bone dust, like everything that made this person human once had been wiped away the minute the skull had been put on. It makes Mason more than a little sick, but also guiltily relieved because if it’s not human, then he can’t be an accomplice to someone’s murder. He can see now why Liam was trying to keep him away, trying to push him out, because he knew, he knew that Beacon Hills wasn’t just some idyllic little town, that it had a pretty dark underside that he didn’t want his best friend near. He tried, but Mason wouldn’t let him – and now he’s kinda wishing he had. Lydia’s explaining her theory to Stiles’ dad in a maddeningly calm way, saying this was all some kind of distraction to keep her here. Because she knew. Because she knew that someone was trying to kill Scott. He really wants to go home now. /// They’re losing. They’re losing real badly, and this is one stinkin’ berserker. Who knows how many are still here, lying in wait? The voices, still uttering their reminder that he’s the son are getting louder in his head, trying to distract him from the battle. He can’t allow that, but they’re relentless, getting louder the more he fights and it’s almost enough to make him drop to his knees. He wants to scream, just a little, to yell at them to shut up, but he can’t, because he’s in the middle of something and he has a pretty solid feeling that that’s not going to help. Peter throws a bone at Malia and instructs her to kill the berserker and it actually seems like they could win when suddenly Kira’s there attacking Malia and Stiles is explaining that it’s Scott. It’s Scott, their alpha, their friend who’s doing this to them. The voices cackle loudly in his ears. Like they planned, child. Exactly like they planned. The knowledge that it’s Scott seems to zap the fight right out of them and gives Berserker Scott the upper hand. He has Liam pinned against the wall when their defences are down and Benny is done. He is so done. He unstraps his crossbow from his arm and lets it drop to the floor, allowing his body to follow suit, falling to his knees – giving up. Yes child, succumb. Succumb to the darkness. There is no fight left in him. Sorry Grams. /// Allison watches, with some sort of detached horror, two very different scenes. Liam, pinned to a wall by the embodiment of goodness, and Benny seemingly giving up. She runs to her cousin while everyone else freezes. Seemingly unsure about how to continue. She touches the back of Benny’s neck, recoiling at the heat coming off him and, this close, she sees how tightly he’s holding himself together, how dangerously close he’s coming to falling apart. Wisps of purple lightning dance across his knuckles, seemingly out of his control and she becomes entranced by it. ”Shut up.” Benny proclaims suddenly, and Allison wants to retort that she isn’t talking, only realizing after that he may not be talking to her. “You’re wrong.” He says next, eyes closed and fists clenching. “I’m nothing like her.” Allison knows, without a doubt, exactly who he’s talking about. He doesn’t seem to be aware of anything except whatever’s going on in his head, but that seems to be the wrong thing to say as he suddenly curls in on himself, evidently in great pain. Allison tears her eyes away to take in the other scene, with Liam and Scott and witnesses Liam’s impassioned plea to his mentor. “You’re not a monster. You’re a werewolf, like me.” It seems to be working, and Scott’s fighting it, fighting whatever her aunt did, and he sets Liam down. That’s one problem down. Benny’s still battling his demons though, and they seem to be more powerful than Kate. When Scott tears his mask off, Allison is relieved, and not at all surprised at the reveal that Peter has not had a change of heart, and is, in fact still an evil megalomaniacal son-of-a-bitch. It’s confirmed again, when he mindlessly bats his daughter away from him, offering up the most insincere sounding apology in the world. Allison, like Kira itches to fight alongside Scott, but she knows this is not her battle, and instead stays at her cousin’s side. Benny’s obviously struggling against whatever this place is doing to him, so she tries to grab his hand, only to notice Stiles jerking his head at Liam. She doesn’t understand, but Liam apparently does, as he comes closer and does what she was just about to. “I’m right here, buddy.” He whispers, pressing his head against Benny’s. Benny doesn’t look any better, but he doesn’t look any worse, so she’ll take it for now. /// Benny’s in Hell. The Sisters, as they’ve introduced themselves, explain to him all he’s capable of. He already knows most of this from the stories his grandmother told him, but she never knew Kate’s part in all this, never understood that Hunters aren’t entirely human either, that it’s been hundreds of years since Mage and Hunter blood merged, and he’s the one they’ve been waiting for. He doesn’t like the sound of that, doesn’t trust any of it, knows this place is poison, but a little part of him – a part that’s getting bigger the longer he stays here – wants to believe. The power in his veins, already greater than his Grams’ expectations, sings here, sings a bloody song of death and destruction, of all the things he could do if he let go of his inhibitions, even just a little. He’s always been a better Mage when his dark side took over, they remind him, and he can’t deny that truth. He starts to slip, but then remembers. That was Before. Before the Lucifractor, before the cancer, before Allison – before Liam. No. He burns their touch off of him and growls at their trickery, growls at himself for allowing it. Power builds behind his eyes, the likes of which he’s never felt before, and he hears the Sisters’ screams as he lets it free. His grandma’s face, clearer than it’s been in a long time is the last thing he sees before he sinks into the black. /// The heat coming off Benny’s skin is intense, but Liam daren’t remove his hands, knowing, somehow that he’s the only thing keeping Benny attached to this mortal plane, knows that removing his hands would be almost like a cardinal sin. So he ignores the heat and focusses on Benny. Benny’s eyes are tightly shut, but underneath those eyelids, his pupils are dancing, moving crazily back and forth. His lips are moving, letting out a stream of words too fast for Liam to catch. Almost out of nowhere, Benny stops talking and the heat of his skin becomes unbearable, forcing Liam away. Benny’s veins are bulging, the deep blue melting away to make room for the violet. Benny’s eyes snap open, and they’re ultraviolet, no pupils or irises to be seen. His body contorts violently as pure energy explodes outwards into the heart of Scott’s battle. Above, the skies darken and purple lightning shoots impossibly up from the ground, and the source is undeniably Benny. The lightning makes a beeline for Peter, who’s still laid out from Scott’s final punch and seems to spread out from there, attacking every enemy in sight. Maybe even the ones out of sight, if the ceasing gunfire is any indication. Spent from all that, Benny collapses and Liam rushes to catch him, both terrified and awed at that display. Black blood leaks from Benny’s ears and the corners of his mouth, and he looks pretty dead. No one seems to notice though, all gathered around Peter. Scott’s the one who checks his pulse and shakes his head. Malia looks like she’s unsure how to feel about it, but most of the others only look relieved. Liam doesn’t care either way, dude was sketchy, and it’s not like he hasn’t resurrected himself before. Besides, all his concern is being swallowed up by Benny, who is growing colder as everyone worries over a pyscho. “Guys!” He barks, bringing everyone’s attention back to where it belongs. Allison looks horrified and runs over to her cousin, cradling him in her arms. She checks his pulse, worry soothed when she feels one – thready and weak, but there. She looks at Malia to see how she’s feeling about the kid who might’ve killed her father, but sees only concern in her eyes. Allison nods and Malia returns it, and that’s pretty much it. Her dad comes in, looking pretty bleak and seems rooted to the spot when he takes the scene in. “So this storm…” He says, and he doesn’t need to complete the sentence because it’s written on their faces. “Kate got away.” He says instead, to fill the silence that revelation brings. It’s enough to break them out of their collective stupor and Scott advances toward them and positions Benny over his shoulders. The kid doesn’t stir, which is grounds for concern, but not right now. Right now, Allison’s tired. She wants Lydia, wants girl-talk and mani-pedis and days long-gone, but she’ll settle for a bath and the most mind-numbingly stupid rom-com in her arsenal when she gets home. She allows her dad’s offer of a hand up and dusts off her jeans, hugging him tightly enough that his bones creak. This has been the longest day. It’s not over yet, as her dad announces that he’s going after Kate. She’d protest, but she’s pretty burnt out and she knows it’s her battle to lose anyway. So she says nothing, just kisses his cheek and makes him promise to come home. He does, and she accepts his placation, not tired enough that she stopped knowing his tones, but too tired to argue anymore. Ugh, she could sleep for a week. * After sending her dad off with the Calaverras, Allison seats herself at Benny’s side, planting his head on her lap and nodding off to sleep. Almost. Benny’s shirt rides up, and a black something catches her eye. Knowing he doesn’t have any tattoos, she lifts it up to investigate. It’s a bolt of lightning running diagonally from his left shoulder and curling around the right side of his hip. Huh. She goes to touch it, but a shock runs down her fingers and she pulls away. Curiouser and curiouser. A wave of purple magic crawls along the tattoo and Allison’ll have to ask Deaton to be sure, but she thinks she gets what it is. Liam pokes his head into the car and seems surprised at the tattoo. “Whoa, cool!” he says, sounding his age for the first time ever, and bringing everyone’s attention to them. “Now see, Scott, that’s a tattoo.” Stiles says and Scott glares. Allison laughs. She’s heard that story. “I don’t think that’s what it is, actually.” Allison says, and she would elaborate, but she’s suddenly too tired. She sinks into her seat and lets her head fall back. She’s asleep minutes later, deaf to her friends’ queries.


	14. Chapter 14

Canada- 1 year ago (roughly):

_Ever_ _since_ _the_ _Lucifractor_ , _White_ _Chapel_ _has_ _been a ghost town. No supernatural disruptions whatsoever. Ethan thinks it’s a good thing, but Grams doesn’t. He wants to believe that White Chapel is settling, wants that desperately, but his grandma’s got more experience with this than they do, so he’s leaning towards her side. There’s the other thing too – his powers. He knows he’s not the best Mage, not by a long shot, but ever since Vice Principal Stern messed with his head, his spells have been even less cooperative than they were before. Even the simplest of spells, like cleaning dishes, results in a mini-explosion. He’s even consulted his grandma’s extensive library, but nothing’s helping. It’s after another botched spell that he decides to go to his grandmother directly. He finds her in the garden, wearing the bonnet he remembers giving her eons ago, knee-deep in soil. She smiles when she sees him._

_“Hey, honey.” She says, lifting herself up nimbly._

_“Hey, Grams. Something weird’s going on with my powers.” He says flat out._

_“Oh? Like what?” She queries, sending her gardening tools away with a simple flick of her wrist._

_“Like, I can’t even do_ that _without setting something on fire.”_

_She purses her lips as she gives it some consideration. “Hmm. You’ve never shown a mastery of easy spells before; do you think you should be concerned?”_

_“Grandma!”_

_Her lips quirk upwards and he scowls._

_“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. Let’s talk inside.”_

_Benny sets about making his grams some tea, grabs a soda for himself and waits for her to finish washing up._

_“Give me your hands.” His grandma says as she comes back in._

_“Huh?”_

_“Give me your hands. Do you need some time to puzzle that out?”_

_He resists the urge to roll his eyes, not willing to risk a smack to the back of the head._

_He does what she asks, offering up the appendages in question. She lets her own hover over his, but doesn’t touch. As he watches, her fingers start to glow and tiny tendrils of golden light wrap themselves around his._

_“Grams, what’s –“_

_“Shh.”_

_He presses his lips together and observes. A few minutes pass and then his grandma releases her hold._

_“It’s as I suspected – your magic’s evolving.”_

_“That doesn’t really help me, grandma.” The head-smack he was trying to avoid earlier finds him anyway._

_“Do you read anything I give you?” She asks, sounding exasperated._

_“There’s like a 1000 pages in each book!” He whines._

_She harrumphs, utterly unimpressed with his excuse. She jerks two fingers and Benny finds himself ducking as a thick moleskin comes flying at his head. Another flick of her fingers has the pages flipping themselves. It stops on a certain page and his grandma hands the book to him._

_He reads._

_“So… It’s like Mage-puberty?” He summarises, to his grandma’s distaste._

_“Of a sort, I suppose. For a long time, Benny, I was convinced you didn’t have any magic – that you had more of your mother in you than Kaden.” Her features darken like they always do when she talks about his mom (which isn’t that often and never more than a few sentences when she does), but she continues. “Usually your magic evolves with you, growing as you grow, but your magic was blocked until Jesse came.”_

_“How?”_

_“Probably something to do with that woman’s blood.” She says dismissively, leaving Benny with more questions than answers. He knows she won’t give him a straight answer, so he doesn’t ask._

_“And now?”_

_“Now all that repressed magic is coming to the surface.”_

_“So what’s gonna happen now?”_

_“A lot of reading.” She says, flipping the book back to the first page and handing it to him._

_///*///_

_His magic’s settling now, and he’s more proficient than he’s ever been before._

_“Hey, E, check this out!” He says one dull Sunday later._

_When Ethan turns, he brings the middle and index fingers of both his hands together and slowly pulls them apart, allowing a surge of purple lightning to flow between them. Ethan ducks behind his computer chair, which Benny thinks is fair. When nothing happens, Ethan pokes his head out and gapes._

_“Holy shit, dude, you actually did it!” Ethan exclaims, coming up to him and examining it closer._

_Benny clenches his fists and the lightning disappears, and he’s secretly relieved that it worked._

_“Sick!” That’s Rory’s voice, startling them both as he climbs through the window._

_“You know I have a front door, right?” Ethan comments drily, when he calms down._

_“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Rory retorts._

_“You’re a weird dude, dude.” Benny says idly, before lighting his fingers up again._

_///*///_

_It’s his dad’s birthday. Benny knows this because his grandma always gets quiet and melancholy around this time. Coincidentally, he’s wearing a black golf shirt, but that’s of no consequence._

_He finds her in the garden, standing in the same spot she’s always in on this day._

_“Grams, you coming in soon? It looks like rain.”_

_She waves him off, making no move to obey._

_“You’re gonna catch a cold.”_

_“I’m already sick.” He thinks she says, but can’t be sure, her words obstructed by heavy wind._

_“What was that, Grams?”_

_“Nothing Benny, go inside.”_

_He doesn’t listen, moving closer to her with a raincoat._

_“At least take this.” He says as he reaches her, handing it over._

_She shrugs it on, and he’s close enough now to see that she’s crying._

_“Grams, you don’t have to grieve alone.”_

_“You didn’t even know him.” He knows she didn’t mean it like that, but it still hurts to hear her say it._

_It hurts badly enough to send him back inside just as the rain starts pouring._

_A half hour later, his gran comes back in, tracking mud through the house with every step. She makes him hot cocoa as a peace offering, but it tastes like ash in his mouth._

_“I’m sorry.” She admits when the silence becomes unbearable._

_“You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”_

_“That may be, but he was still your father, and you must miss him too.”_

_He shrugs, because some days, like when he’s watching Ethan with_ his _dad, then it’s unbearable, but others, he doesn’t even feel like he’s missing out on anything at all._

_“That’s where he buried himself.” His grandma declares, and Benny doesn’t understand what she means._

_“When your father – when he – when…”_

_“When he killed himself...” Benny supplies, still feeling the sting of his gran’s words a little, or he’d have been more delicate._

_She seems to understand that and doesn’t reprimand him for it._

_“Yes, thank you. He did it there, calling on his Centre to take him to his final resting place._

_“His Centre?”_

_“Yes, wind.”_

_“Grams, that’s not clearing anything up.”_

_“You haven’t gotten to that part in your reading?”_

_“Grams, those books are so long, and so_ boring _.”_

 _“Well. Mages draw their power from nature, the elements around them. There’re some, though, that we are drawn_ to _. For me, it’s the sun. I always feel more in control when the sun’s shining. Your father, his Centre was wind. He could do anything with it. His was a true talent.” She sounds so despondent that Benny goes around the table and gives her a powerful hug._

_“What’s my Centre, Grams?” He asks when she collects herself again._

_“Lightning.”_

_///*///_

_She’s fading, he knows that. She’s so frail now, looking like a stiff breeze could knock her over. She’s more machine than person at this point, but she still manages to smile when she sees him._

_“What happened to your face?” She asks, speaking of the impressive bruise blossoming along his jaw._

_“Dryad got me by surprise.” His replies offhandedly, not wanting her to worry._

_“Benny!”_

_“It’s okay, we won.”_

_“Sarah saved you, you mean?”_

_“That doesn’t happen anymore! ... That much.” He elaborates off her disbelieving look._

_“I know. You’ve gotten much better with your powers, child. I am so proud.” She opens her arms and he hugs her gently, mindful of the wires._

_“You’ve exceeded my teachings.” She admits, though he suspects it’s very grudgingly,_

_“What’s that mean?”_

_“It means that you’re more powerful than I expected, more powerful than even you know.”_

_“Right, okay. Morphine kick in yet?”_

_“I mean it. You’re made for great things, Benny”_

_///*///_

Benny opens his eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes i absolutely know that this is a character insert story. Do i care? Not enough to do anything about it. Anyway, I don't own any of the characters or even the plot really but i just wanted Allison Argent to be alive so i did this and well...  
> enjoy the terrifying recesses of my mind and just comment if you hate me

Liam’s nervous about this. He doesn’t know what could happen. This could make the next four years absolutely miserable. If this doesn’t go well, he can kiss everything goodbye.

He crosses his fingers and goes in. 

“If it isn’t my favourite delinquents, Coach says, looking, thankfully, not at him, but rather at Scott and Stiles.

Oh, thank God.

Maybe he could still get out of this.

“I seemed to be missing a _captain_ in my last practice, McCall.” Coach spits out, looking at him expectantly.

“Uhh…” Scott manages, and Stiles face says it all.

Liam steps in, spinning an elaborate lie.

“… Then Stiles says that Scott and Kira were stuck in Mexico, which is why they missed the game. Uhh, so we went down to Mexico, to drive them back from Mexico, which is why we missed _practice_. Cause – we – were – all – in – Mexico.” Liam’s bullshitting wavers in the face of coach’s unflinching stare.

Stiles and Scott keep their heads down and Coach’s focus turns to them.

“You took Kira on a date to _Mexico._ ”

“It was our first real date?”

“In Mexico?” Coach’s has an impressive do-I-look-dumb face going on, Liam has to admit.

“They wanted to do something special.” Stiles lies bold-facedly, and Liam’s beginning to think they should just have left him to do it, because he’s the obvious master.

“Okay, uh, I believe ya.”

“ _Really?!”_ Liam says incredulously, because really?

“Absolutely not. I’ve had experiences south of the border that would knock the genitals off you boys.”

Awesome, that’s a mental picture Liam did not need, and now it’s in there.

“Still let me be clear to you two – this kid’s the best talent I’ve seen in years, so he’s your responsibility now.” Liam doesn’t think coach understands just how aware they are of that particular responsibility.

“You’re gonna stick together, you’re gonna look out for each other and you’re gonna have each other’s backs – you got it?”

A smile slides its way onto Scott’s lips and a proud glint appears in his eyes. “We got it.” Liam feels the tug and grins back.

“What about Weir? Where was he?” The warm feeling pooling in his gut dries up at the words and he suddenly finds his hands very interesting.

“He’s with Allison, they’re doing some family thing.”

Truth is, no one’s seen the two of them much since Benny passed out at La Iglesia. They dropped them off at home and then all contact was suddenly terminated. He has no idea if Benny’s okay, if he even woke up and it’s killing him not knowing. 

“Well, tell him to get his ass back here soon, ‘cause he’s starting next game.” With that, Coach dismisses them and Liam leaves the room as he always does after an interaction with their coach, confused, and liking him a little more than the last time he’d seen him.

“Who wants burgers?” Stiles says when they’re outside again. He waves a familiar wallet in the air and says “Scott’s buying.”, before taking off to his car. He reaches it milliseconds before Scott would have caught him, slamming the door shut and sticking his tongue out.

Liam knows it’s only out of respect for Roscoe that Scott doesn’t just rip the door off and grab his wallet back, otherwise Stiles might be missing a few layers of skin right about now. He races to the Jeep and sits in front, so as to protect the wallet, because free food is free food, no matter who’s footing the bill.

“Drive on, Jeeves.” He proclaims grandly, with an ostentatious flow of his hand.

Stiles rolls his eyes but starts Roscoe up, with Scott getting in reluctantly behind them.

**///**

Allison has remained vigil at Benny’s side for an uncountable number of days now. He has remained pretty much the same as the first day. He’s alive, though which is the best she can hope for, but not knowing what more to do is driving her crazy. She’s been amusing herself with home-videos and pictures to pass the time, all stored on her tablet, but that’s not nearly as fun to do alone, so it doesn’t keep her as occupied as she thought it would. The one thing keeping her sane is the cryptic, often one-worded texts her dad sends her, letting her know he’s safe.

The latest one had been a cheery ‘Not dead,’ punctuated by a thumbs-up emoji of all things, which had her cringing.

At least she can be sure it’s him, because no one else can send texts that truly bizarre.

There’s movement in the corner of her eye and she sees Benny move. He’s done that off and on for the past few days, so that doesn’t concern her. She goes back to her tablet and scrolls through the pictures in Benny’s folder, uploaded during that two week stay at the Morgan household, snorting at some and smiling at others.

“Why do I hurt so bad?” It’s only quick reflexes that saves the tablet as Allison startles and fumbles it.

“Benny!” She sets the tablet down and rushes to him, pulling him into a bear hug that he doesn’t seem to mind much.

“As great as this is, mind telling me why?”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

“The last thing I do remember is pulling up to La Iglesia. The rest is kind of a blur. Did we win?”

“Oh, we won, alright.”

She settles in next to him and begins to regale him with much exaggeration, about The Tale of La Iglesia.

*

Her heart is racing like a hummingbird’s. She’s not so sure about this plan anymore. There’s dissention in the ranks behind her, but she knows not to look back. It’s anyway too late now. She’s already crossed over into enemy territory. Her finger rests on the trigger of her gun, but she’s not sure she can do this. She’s not sure she wants to. Behind her are voices, hushed, but close by. She holds her breath to hear what they have to say, not risking giving away her position to get closer.

“Are you sure she’s up for this?”

“It’s the only way. He’s suspicious of everyone else. Today of all days, he’ll be armed to the teeth, and won’t let his guard down for a second.”

“You’re right, of course, but what if he does?”

“He _won’t_.”

“But how can y-…“ The sound of flesh on flesh, most probably from a hand covering a mouth, and a short, sharp ‘Shh!” has Allison’s hackles raised. She takes a deep breath, remembers at the last second to exhale quietly. She pushes forward and aims.

“APRIL FOOLS, DADDY!!!” She shouts, jumping onto the bed and covering him in silly string and suds from her water gun. He’s stunned for a second, but recovers remarkably, going for her sensitive spots and tickling her mercilessly.

“You little minx! I can’t believe they got to you.”

“We bribed her with chocolate and a later bedtime.”

Silhouetted in the doorway are Victoria and Kate, looking smug in their victory, brandishing super-soakers of their own in preparation of retaliation.

“Game on.” Chris says, hoisting Allison onto his shoulders and revealing his own weapon.

///

Benny snorts as he watches the camera get kicked out of the shot, so that all he sees are running feet and hears muted yelling about flags on the play.

“You guys really got into April Fools, huh?” Benny ribs lightly, poking at Allison’s newly revealed sensitive spot, satisfied when she twists away from him with a glare.

“Don’t do that again unless you think you can operate a crossbow with only nine fingers.” She warns, but there’s lightness in her tone that belies the words.

“Let’s watch another one.” He says, deciding discretion is the better part of valour.

There’s an evil smirk on her face as she loads the next one and he knows why immediately when he sees what she’s put on.

“No, Allison, c’mon, not that one. That’s child abuse, it has to be.” She immobilizes him easily enough, and allows the video to play on, laughing at the greenish tint his face has taken on.

It’s Benny and Ethan’s first Halloween and they’re dressed as wizards naturally, armed with biodegradable glitter which they’ve been using to _spread_ _the_ _magic_ of Halloween around, which basically amounts to chucking glitter at people and shouting Happy Halloween and running away. It’s all very charming. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Benny had been wearing a My Little Pony onesie underneath his robes and the wind hadn’t caused his robes to ride up, it would have been a fine Halloween indeed.

“You laugh, but I didn’t shake the oh-so-charming Mr Pinkie-Pie nickname until grade five.” He mutters sulkily, burrowing under the blankets in embarrassment.

“Oh, hush you big baby.” Allison jokes, handing him the tablet so he can queue up the next one.

He shifts to try and get comfortable, finds it pointless and connects to the TV instead.

“I’ll get some popcorn.” Allison says, getting up to do it and Benny almost wants to offer to magic some up, but knows his magic still needs rest after the trial he’d put it through. He can feel it under his skin as a dull hum when it’s usually a vibrant gospel choir with all the trimmings.

He closes his eyes and sinks into the mattress, running himself through a mental exercise his Grams taught him eons ago. _Empty your mind. Unmoor yourself. You’re alone in an ocean where nothing can get to you. Breathe. Relinquish yourself of your burdens. Nothing can trouble you here. You are a well. Empty, but for your soul. Slowly fill it up._

He opens his eyes and sees that everything seems to be enveloped in a shimmery purple haze that seems to fade with each passing second. Everything reverts back to normal the second Allison comes back with popcorn, and he notes he feels better than ever.

Allison grins at him and switches the TV on. He settles in for a night of home video watching with his cousin, imagining for a second that his Grams is right there next to him, surrounding them with love. It’s not as easy as all that obviously, as the exercise is only a temporary fix, there’s workouts to be done, of both the body and the mind, but that’s later’s problem, for _now_ this is enough.

///

It’s dark out when it occurs to Allison to phone the rest of the pack, when Benny’s asleep – a natural one, this time, not magically induced, which she’s insurmountably grateful for – and she gets up to do so, dislodging the popcorn bowl and sending kernels flying.

Pins and needles shoot up her leg the second she puts pressure on it, so she drags it along behind her as she walks to her desk where she left her phone. It’s a matter of seconds between her dialling and Scott picking up on the other side. She could giggle, she’s so happy right now.

“He’s okay.” She breathes out, and that’s all Scott needs.

“We’re on our way.” He hangs up before she can say that Benny’s sleeping, but it wouldn’t make a difference to them anyway.

Unsurprisingly, Liam shows up first, with an assortment of pudding cups for some reason, with Mason in tow, looking bewildered at his best friend’s choice of snack-foods, offering his more reasonable bags of chips to their unofficial host. There’s Scott with soda and Stiles with pizza and Malia with fixings for s’mores (a treat she’s recently rediscovered and has been attempting to convince everyone of its placing amongst those in the basic food groups with varying degrees of success.) Lydia brings juice of all things, telling everyone present that no one’s getting drunk tonight, because this is a celebration that they’ll want to remember in years to come. There’s Kira with pretzels and then the whole gang’s together, waiting for Benny to wake up again.

It doesn’t take long as Benny’s body needs activity more than rest, so he wakes up about half hour after everyone decides to play Heads Up. Liam pulls Benny in close to him, not letting him out of his sight longer than bathroom breaks would allow. Benny doesn’t seem to mind at all.

Allison smiles as she watches Kira attempt to moonwalk, tripping halfway through it, but Scott guesses Michael Jackson, so it’s a point for their team, setting Allison’s competitive side on edge. She will not lose to someone who thought that Jackson was talking about actual juice when he’d been talking about steroids.

“We’re trailing by five, Benny, you’re up.” She says, pulling her cousin up by his wrists and shoving Lydia’s tablet into his hands. Hers is currently charging, along with Kira’s as she has plans to keep his game going all night if she has to and will not let a dead battery determine victory.

Benny loads up a category and Allison gestures for Liam to give the clues, figuring correctly that the two would be on the same wavelength, tipping the scales in her team’s favour.

“SUCK IT!” She says when they win, offering up her best Shawn Spencer impression and dancing wildly between Scott’s team.

It goes on like that for the rest of the night.

**///**

Of course the peace can’t last long – or it can, just not in Benny’s head. He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t remember much about that night, but it seems his subconscious had decided to pick up the slack in that area.   
Every day, for a week now, every time he closes his eyes, he’s treated to a vivid recap of that night. Every time it’s something new. Everything in glorious HD.

He doesn’t tell Allison, doesn’t want her to worry, but she worries anyway.

For the first few nights, they shared his room, and the nightmares weren’t so bad, but the second she thought he was okay, the second she finally got a God’s-Honest night’s sleep is the night his nightmares turn bloody.

In his nightmares, everyone dies.

In his nightmares he doesn’t beat back the sisters.

In his nightmares he isn’t strong enough.

He isn’t fast enough and everyone dies. He’s fast enough and they still die.

Some nights, Scott kills them. Sometimes they kill Scott.

Sometimes, everyone dies by Benny’s own hands.

He doesn’t tell anyone about it, doesn’t think it’s really a big deal.

*

While trying to catch up on some sleep during their lunch hour, he takes in snippets of Mason and Liam’s conversation. It’s mostly about their plans for the summer, their traditional summer kick-off soiree at Mason’s, cause he has the bigger pool and things like that. He knows they’re trying to include him in it this year, but he also understands that this is their thing, their bro-thing that he doesn’t have to be part of. He had a tradition with Ethan back in Canada too, which generally involved sneaking off to play some summer release of an ultra-violent video game at a place where Jane wouldn’t find them and rat them out.

He gets it, he does.

It’s their thing.

He doesn’t have to be included in everything they do.

He’s about to tell them that when Mason makes an observation that dries Benny’s mouth instantly.

“Man, I don’t know if we’ll even get to do any of that this year anyway, what with these crazy storms we’ve been having.” He says it in an offhanded way, but it still gets Benny’s heart-rate up. He knows all about those storms. He’s the main reason they’re happening.

His nightmares, when put together with his psyched out powers, have combined to form thunderstorms beyond his control.

He thinks Allison suspects something, but knows no one else has and he plans to keep it that way.

Thankfully the bell rings before Liam can share his thoughts on the phenomenon.

It doesn’t stop Liam’s hand on his wrist, though – Liam’s warm hand that seems to bring to his attention how cold he feels right now.

He really hasn’t been getting enough sleep.

That thought seems to zap all the energy out of his legs and he’s collapsing, cracking his jaw on the table on his way down. He’s out cold before he can register the pain.

///

Liam’s not as oblivious as people seem to think he is. He notices things, he knows more than he lets on. He knows that it’s a great asset to be undermined, loves the look on people’s faces when he one-ups them, when he shocks them with something about the thing they thought he wasn’t paying attention to.

So he notices that Benny is not okay.

He notices the bags under the boy’s eyes. He knows the look of someone not getting enough sleep, because, until recently, he’d been that guy.

He had planned to talk to Benny about it during lunch, but Mason had wanted to talk summer plans and he doesn’t want Mason to think that he’s being neglected, doesn’t want him to think that Benny is suddenly more important than him so he indulges it, and tries to pretend that he’s doing it completely unselfishly, like the desire for normalcy hadn’t factored into the equation at all.

(Like the need to pretend that the Liam of last summer isn’t completely gone.)

When Benny collapses he knows that all the pretending in the world won’t turn back the clocks, or even freeze time.

He’s still working on accepting that.

*

Benny’s fine, just a lot sleep-deprived. He has to endure Mason’s mothering, but he wisely chooses that over Allison’s, which would undoubtedly be crueller.

Liam had put the pieces together, knows exactly what’s going on in Benny’s head right now. He imagines it’s something similar to what’s been going on in his own head.

Kate Argent.

For Liam it had been her berserkers, for Benny, it’s everything else.

He figured correctly that those weird storms that had meteorologists scratching their heads had been Benny’s fault.

Benny claims his powers are misbehaving after the rigmarole he’d put it through. Liam knows it’s more complex than all that, but also has a lawyer for a mom, which means he knows when not to push.

He knows the best thing they can do is take this one day at a time.

///

It’s a week later, and Benny’s nightmares haven’t gotten better, but he has been sleeping, thanks in part to Liam, who’s been great. Liam who texts him until he falls asleep, who listens to his dumb conspiracy theories and doesn’t roll his eyes, who’s just a great guy, no accessories.

There’s a warmth in his stomach when he thinks of Liam, a warmth he doesn’t want to investigate, knowing what he’ll find.

It’s just too complicated and best left alone.

His magic’s still iffy, unaccommodating, like those first tentative days after the Lucifractor. He didn’t know how to handle it back then, but he does know, and the Benny from back then would have hated it.

*

“You want to go jogging?” He asks Allison the Saturday before school officially lets out for the summer. She’s primping for something with Lydia that he’s afraid to ask about and she just raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t respond as she works an earring into her ear, or when she considers two different shades of lipstick. She doesn’t pick either.

“Now?” She asks, putting a pea-coat on over her dress and immediately removing it.

“Tomorrow.” He says.

“Sure. Now would have been better.” She admits, pulling a face at herself in the mirror.

He chuckles. “Where are you going anyway?”

“Brunch. Lydia’s idea.”

“You hate it?”

“It’s at Vers Le Ciel.” She explains and he nods in understanding. They card, and while Allison may have a fake ID and is technically old enough to drink in _Paris_ , neither of those things will help her get alcohol because they’re familiar faces at the establishment and Vers Le Ciel is governed by American laws.

“I mean, is it even brunch if there aren’t mimosas?” She asks mock-earnestly.

“Votre malchance.” Benny says simply, causing her to grimace.

(He remembers fondly the first time he’s spoken French in front of her. They’d been sparring and Chris hadn’t wanted to discourage him from learning so he’d given his breakdown of things Benny needed to work on in French, but Benny had understood everything said and replied in fluent French that he’d keep working on it.

Chris had been understandably embarrassed, not that anyone would have noticed, and said that they should just get back to work.

He _had_ remembered something important he’d forgotten to do immediately after though.

“You speak French?” She asks later, when they’re drinking bottles of water.

“My grand-père was from Auvers-Sur-Oise originally and lived in Quebec until he met my Grams. He read me bedtime stories in French all the time. Most of our conversations were in French actually, which worked great when it came time for finals.”

“I never knew that. Man, imagine how frustrated Stiles would have been if we had long conversations in French.”

“He’d probably learn French to spite us.” Benny responds sagely.

“Surprised he hasn’t already, Lydia’s fluent in it and that guy would swim buck-naked in the frozen tundra if he thought she’d be impressed.”

They both laugh.)

“Ne fais pas le malin.” She replies.

He laughs as she disappears out the door.

“Jogging sounds great.” She says as she leaves the house, keys in hand.

“Can’t wait.”

*

The next morning, it’s not only Allison that joins him on his run – it’s Liam and Mason and Malia.

He’s happy to see them, knows two of them will be awesome jogging partners, but knows Mason will probably hate this.

“Man, you got a death wish?” He asks the aforementioned.

Mason shrugs. “As long as we all agree to keep it to a human pace, I’m good for it.” He explains.

Malia looks dubious.

“Your funeral.” He tells Mason, patting him on the back.

They decide to jog through the Preserve, knows that that’s the best place to jog from and the others (the ones, according to Lydia that are sensible enough to sleep in on a Sunday) can meet them there afterwards.

The jog starts easy enough, a stroll through the woods. It’s great cardio, gets the blood pumping, endorphins high, and all that good stuff. It’s fine for all of them, but tame.

After ten minutes, Malia looks bored.

“I could run in place faster than this.” She says, when the silence feels like it’s personally attacking her.

“You could run ahead if you want.” Benny says easily.

She has a look on her face that suggests she hadn’t thought of that and takes off.

Benny finds himself wanting to do the same. He knows that that’s the rush he needs to get his abilities to calm down. He looks back at Allison, who might struggle with the speed and at Mason who will definitely struggle, and decides, ultimately not to.

“Go ahead, Benny.” Allison says, catching his look.

“I’ll keep Slug over here company.”

“Who’s Slug? Me?” Mason looks offended. “I’ll have you know I took track in middle school.”

“You quit after two weeks.” Liam states.

Benny laughs, taps Liam on the shoulder, shouts _you’re it_ , and takes off.

“Benny, you piece of sh---,” The rest of that statement is ripped away by the wind as Benny picks up speed, revelling in the feeling.

He can feel the magic pulsing under his skin, feels it healing, repairing, and undoing the damage he’d inflicted. It’s invigorating and makes him run faster. There’s a tap on his shoulder and he whirls around to see that it’s Malia, not Liam that tagged him. She laughs and runs away. He knows that he can’t catch up with her, so goes for the easiest target in sight, which happens to be Mason.

He’s still jogging, not crazy enough to try to keep up with the super-humans, but in the vicinity no less.

“Tag.” He shouts easily, jogging away.

“I wasn’t even playing!” Mason shouts after him, but it’s too late, he’s in it now.

The game continues for a while, with everyone tagged at least once, but Mason comes out the obvious loser, which he claims doesn’t count on the bounds of an uneven playing field and also the fact that they’re big fat cheats.

Benny hasn’t felt this carefree in a while, hasn’t felt like _this_ in a while, safe and loved, and he has definitely missed the feeling.

He sinks down onto the grass, watching the storm clouds gather. Liam drops down next, knee bumping against Benny’s.

“This you?” he asks cautiously, not wanting to break Benny out of his Zen state.

“Mm-hm. On purpose too, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Won’t that do more damage?” That’s Mason’s observation, who joins them in their cross-legged state.

“Nah, not really. I think, it’s like a storm after a long heat wave. Tension relief.”

“You think we should head back soon?” Allison asks, but doesn’t look like she’d mind either way.

In answer, Benny sinks down onto the grass and stretches out spread-eagled. Overhead, thunder rumbles and clouds burst. The scent of petrichor lingers in the air. Benny’s body positively sings. He can feel nature in every nerve ending, every synapse; every neuron. He can feel it when Liam sinks down next to him and when Mason does too. Malia and Allison waste no time in joining them. Somehow, and he’s going to put it down to the magic in the air, they’ve managed to arrange themselves in a five-pointed star, and he can feel their energies in a new intoxicating way.

He knows he’s radiating a purple glow, but he doesn’t care, too intoxicated on this feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a teaser. If it gets 100 hits or 20 kudos & 20 constructive comments, I'll post the rest. Random Fandom Xover. Really not even sure how much these two fanbases intersect, but guess we'll find out together.


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